#my thirties are nowhere near this fluffy

[pepsi-maxwell]

more premier league cmjf au, because i watched that ted lasso segment where roy drags jamie out for 4am training and obviously my first thought was these two idiots

first part here

word count: ~1200, rating: t

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Punk steps out of his car onto a quiet, tree-lined street south of the city centre. He looks up at the house in front of him. Semi-detached in Hale; a typical footballer’s house after graduating from the typical city centre penthouse apartment. Closer to Old Trafford than the Etihad, too, something he makes a mental note of. Punk thinks even he’s closer to the City training grounds than Max is.

There’s a Lamborghini Huracan in City blue on the driveway, as well as a slightly more practical Bentley GT in matte black. He glances inside the Bentley as he walks up towards the doorway, rolling his eyes at the custom plaid check upholstery.

Ugly, tacky, and so incredibly, predictably Maxwell.

He’s aware of the cameras tracking him. Fairly standard fare, but he’s got every right to be here, even when it’s half five in the morning, and the sun is just about considering coming up on what’s no doubt going to be an unseasonably warm September morning.

He makes his way up the three steps to the porch and rings the doorbell, pushing the button again immediately after it’s stopped.

It doesn’t take long for Max to answer.

“What do you want,” he yawns, too over the top to not be put-on.

Punk’s eyes flit down the length of his body critically. Bare chest, silk boxers, ridiculously fluffy slippers matching the ridiculously fluffy Calico rubbing herself between his ankles. Max crouches down, scooping Piper up into his arms with a smirk.

Punk’s gaze travels back up to Max’s face as he taps his wrist.

“Training started half an hour ago, Max. Why aren’t you at the grounds? Do we need to get you a new alarm?”

The grin drops from his face and he looks at Punk like he’s grown an extra head for a moment. “I don’t train before the sun comes up, Punker,” he says, making a one-handed shoo-ing gesture. “So jog on. Go look after the rest of those massive cash-wastes, and on Wednesday night, when you need your star player to come on and score five goals for you, you’re welcome by the way, I’ll be there.”

He moves to shut the door, but Punk moves forward, shoving his foot out to keep it open. “What the fuck are you playing at,” he hisses, kicking at Punk’s shoe as Punk gets his shoulder in the gap, forcing him back until he’s in Max’s foyer, the door slamming shut behind him.

Piper jumps out of his arms and Max stands there, looking on-edge, and nowhere near as confident as he had about thirty seconds ago.

Punk, similarly, feels the frustration drain out of him now that he’s inside Max’s home. Doesn’t know what to do with himself when he’s in the perfectly normal home of the world’s worst-behaved premier league superstar.

“Get out before I call the police for trespassing,” Max says after a moment, his voice strangely thick. There’s a kind of wide-eyed nervousness to him that Punk has never seen before, and it makes him want to push at it, dig his fingers in until Max gives.

“I’ll get out once you agree to get in the car and come to training,” Punk offers, folding his arms across his chest, unimpressed.

“You’re going to make me go to training today, of all days? You know it’s a holy day for my people, don’t you? And you’re gonna make me work? That’s antisemetic of you,” Max tries instead, pouting disapprovingly, but Punk holds his ground.

“And which holy day is that,” he retorts, eyeing Max down while he fishes his phone out of his pocket, ready to search. “Tell me. I’m all ears.”

Max looks away with a frustrated sigh, crossing his arms over his chest defensively, hunching his shoulders to make himself look small. Privately, Punk thinks if the football thing hadn’t worked out, he would have made a great actor. “Look, I didn’t wanna say it in case everyone made a big deal, but… it’s actually my birthday today—”

Punk cuts him off with a shocked burst of laughter.

“Max, you got into a fight in Santorini on your birthday. You made the front page of the Sun, and that was six months ago. It’s closer to my birthday than yours.”

Max rolls his eyes and yawns again, loud and obnoxious, making no attempt to cover it. “Mazel tov. Why don’t you take the day off as well, go do something about those ugly bags under your eyes.”

Punk runs his tongue across his lips. It’s a subconscious motion because he’s only had one coffee this morning and he’s parched, dying for a second, but more interesting is the way Max’s half-lidded, half-awake gaze zeroes in on his mouth with a sudden alertness.

It’s not the first time Max has reacted to him in an... interesting way. Punk’s composing quite the list of occurrences in his head, even if he has no idea of what he’s actually going to use it for yet.

Bribery isn’t entirely off the menu right now.

There’s a split second where he debates offering Max a handjob as incentive, but whatever reason Max has for looking at him the way he does sometimes, he thinks that they’re probably not at that stage yet.

“Actually, I had another thing in mind. My birthday present from my biggest fan,” Punk says, with a nasty smile of his own as he takes a step towards him. Max gives him a baleful glare, backing up into the kitchen. “You get in my car and come to training, right now.”

“I don’t need to,” Max hisses. “Already told you, most goals scored in a single season, won the treble—what the fuck are you pulling that face for,” he adds when Punk tuts sympathetically.

“Domestic treble,” Punk corrects, relishing in the ugly twist of Max’s expression in response. “I know you don’t give a shit about the Carabao cup, Max. There’s only one treble you care about, and that’s… god, who was it who won that? Back in 99? It’s on the tip of my tongue—”

There are hands crumpling the lapels of his club jacket, shoving him against the wall, knocking the wind out of him.

It takes him by surprise, if only because he didn’t think Max would have plucked up the courage to lay hands on him already.

It sends a frisson of excitement down his spine. Max is a global name now, bigger than Punk, perhaps, and yet Punk still has this kind of effect on him. He can mould him, he thinks. He can train him into something perfect, somebody completely unstoppable.

Punk holds his hands up, palms facing out. “Come to training, Max,” he murmurs as persuasively as he can. “You want that European cup win? You want to be part of the first English team to win the domestic and the continental treble?”

He can feel Max’s breath fanning across his face, uneven and frustrated. Sees his pupils dilate even as his eyes narrow.

Max shoves him harder against the wall, pushing himself away. He storms off up the stairs, slamming doors, stomping around loud enough to wake the neighbours. Piper, oblivious, rubs her face against his shin and he scratches behind her ears until she purrs.

Two minutes later, he shoulders past Punk in full kit, football boots in hand, swiping his keys off the hook by the door.

Punk follows him out in silence, unable to hide his smile.

[ddoubleblindd]

Everyone's a Catgirl! The Claw

Day 0

There was nowhere to hide from the sun.

Sweat poured down John’s face and neck as he clamored through the sand dunes of…

Where the hell am I?

He lived in Vermont. There wasn’t any sand in Vermont.

The last thing he remembered was the long drive home from the office. It’d been another late night with his boss out of town. There were only two days left to meet their project deadline, and Mark had decided it was the best time to take a trip to Cancun with the wife. Typical.

John ran a hand over his face, then brushed the sweat off on his thigh. He was still in his button-up shirt and tie. His loafers weren’t fit for trekking through sand, and the grains trickled between the gaps of leather and his socks. Heat beat against his back and soaked through his dark hair.

Am I dreaming?

He had to be. He had to have stumbled from his car to his bed and just didn’t remember. Stress from work was obviously getting to him.

An engine revved in the distance. John turned to see a cloud of dust swell in the air around the silhouette of four dark figures on what appeared to be motorcycles. Dirt bikes? It was impossible to tell.

But without water or shelter, he would die in the heat. Even if it was a dream, that sounded like an awful way to go.

“Hey!” John raised his arms over his head and waved a panicked signal. “Over here!”

The bikes turned toward him, the cloud of dust masking their riders’ appearances. John covered his mouth with one arm and closed his eyes, feeling the torrent of sand-soaked wind slam into him as the engines roared their approach.

When the sound died and the dust settled, John rubbed his face and opened his eyes. He blinked and opened his mouth. Then blinked again.

“They always this quiet?” A woman with fiery red hair that seemed to defy gravity popped the stand on her bike with one leather boot and dismounted. Feline ears protruded near her forehead, and a thin tail swayed behind her.

“Hell if I know. This is my first time finding one.” The second rider with similarly teased blonde hair stayed on her bike. She straightened her spiked gauntlets and adjusted the bandoleer over her enormous chest. Her cat ears flicked forward, then rotated to the sides. They looked…real.

“W-who… W-what—?” John stammered. Where did he even begin? “Is this supposed to be Burning Man or something?”

A tan, dark-eyed woman at the opposite end of the red-head smiled, her teeth sharp. “Why would we burn you? You’re too important for that.”

The last woman, a dark-skinned beauty with a shock of white hair and yellow eyes smeared with black, snarled and clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Get on the damn bike, new guy. Before the others find us.”

“The others?” John managed. He shook his head. Pinched his arm. What the hell was going on? “Alright. Seriously. Who are you?”

“We’ll explain at the base. The rest of the Vixens’ll want to see you,” the redhead said.

John gaped. “Wait, Vixen? Like the band?”

“Look. You can either get on the damn bike, or I can tie you to it,” the blonde snapped.

“Er, right.” John padded through the sand toward the white-haired woman and slid onto the seat behind her.

“Hey! Watch the tail!”

John froze, then carefully maneuvered so that he didn’t touch the fluffy white tail poking above her black leather g-string.

Their engines revved, and John wrapped his arms around the woman’s waist.

A sinking feeling in his stomach warned that he wasn’t in Vermont anymore.

Day 3

It wasn’t a dream. This was all very, very real. It had taken John a full day to absorb the shock of his death and apparent rebirth. A second day to restore his fluids and this new [Energy] thing. Today, two of the four riders that had found him were showing him around the Vixens’ base.

It was partially built into a cliff side; a land feature John was positive didn’t exist until the mountain was almost on top of them. There was a small, natural spring that ran through the cliff, offering the clan of thirty or so catgirls—their term for themselves—enough clean water to live.

“There are six other clans like ours. Some bigger, some smaller,” Jewel, the blonde, explained as they walked. She raised one hand and ticked the names off on her fingers. “Twisted Sisters, Queens, Gypsies, Poison, Scorpions, and Rush.”

John laughed.

“Oh? Is something funny, Johnny?” Stevie, the sharp-tongued white-haired woman, poked a long finger into his chest. John hadn’t told her to call him that, but it’d stuck from day one.

“No. I’m sorry. It’s nothing.” They were armed to the teeth. John did his best to control his reactions—offending them could mean dying. Again. “And you said that this was an island?”

“That’s right. The Claw,” Jewel continued. “Branches just off of Ichi. But no one comes here, and no one leaves.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because we have our own ways here, and the rest of Nyarlea can eat shit.” Stevie narrowed her coal-drenched eyes. Black streaks decorated her cheeks and throat, curving down to her chest and across her bared abdomen. From what John had gathered, Stevie was the leader of these Vixens. “They come on our turf, and we shoot them dead. They don’t fuck with us.”

Nyarlea. The Claw. Ichi. Clans. There was so much information to remember.

But that wasn’t the most pressing thing on his mind. “Your friend said I was important here. Why?”

Stevie grinned. “So you can give us kittens, Johnny.” She dragged her sharpened nails down John’s back, and a tiny moan escaped her lips.

John flushed and shivered. He was an unmarried man, sure, but this still felt…sudden. Courting a woman was supposed to take time and respect. These women all stared at him like he was a piece of meat.

“Only the strongest clans get to breed,” Jewel added, her tone cautious. “We’re not allowed to touch him yet, Stevie.”

“Take all of the fun out of it, why don’t you?” Stevie spat and dropped her arm. “I already sent a rider to the Summit. We’ll see in a few days.”

“We’ll see what?” John asked, looking between them.

Day 7

Oh.

All six clans had gathered at the Summit. Hundreds of catgirls surrounded an enormous metal cage that reminded John a lot of the Thunderdome. John stood beside Stevie and six other women who served as the respective leaders of each clan at the center of the cage. 

The only man.  

A dozen women swung from the bars in various states of undress. More raised their guns in the air and beat them against the metal. Some carried torches, some made provocative hand gestures and licked their lips. The whoops, hollers, screams, and engines revving deafened him.

This makes Altamont look like a picnic.

A single bullet fired behind him, and John nearly jumped out of his skin. The crowd immediately fell silent.

“Our new man has arrived, delivered to The Claw in the hands of Clan Vixen!” Stevie cried. “It is time to determine who has earned the right to breed!”

A wild cheer erupted as the girls slammed their weapons against the bars.

Stevie raised her arms, and the cheers died down. “As Clan Vixen found him, we will battle first in this contest! Who will challenge Roxy?”

The redhead he’d met on the first day swung down from high on the dome, landing deftly on her feet and slowly straightening her back. The thick leather armor that wrapped around her chest, arms, and waist was marred with deep scratches and marks that suggested the woman had been in a lot of fights. But she kept her legs bare, save for the calf-high boots. She held a long blade in each hand and clanged them together over her head, her expression starved.

They’re seriously fighting over me? It should have been any man’s wet dream. But the knots in his throat and stomach weighed him down. 

“Clan Scorpion calls for Lenita!” a woman in blue leathers near Stevie called. “Come forward!”

Lenita slithered through the bars. Her purple and black-streaked mullet was tied back with an animal-print headband. The armor fitted to her chest looked more like the carapace of an insect than the tightly sewn leathers of the other girls. She carried a sickle-shaped sword and a menacing smile.

“To safety!” someone called.

Stevie grabbed John’s arm and dragged him away from the center of the arena to a space that was sectioned off from the jeering crowd. She put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him down into a chair shaped like a large throne.

“Enjoy the show,” Stevie whispered into his ear.

“They’re not going to kill each other over this, are they?” John shouted over the crowd.

“Of course not.” Stevie looked surprised. “That’d be barbaric.”

“...I see.”

Another woman appeared at John’s side with a canteen of water and a plate of food. “Hey there, babe. Name’s Jackie. If you want anything else, you just let me know.”

John nervously accepted both with a nod. “Thank you, Jackie.”

Jackie giggled. “What a sweetie.” She took a seat on the arm of the throne. “I hope Clan Gypsy gets to take you home.”

What do I say to that? “I-I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

“To first blood!” A woman acting as a referee raised a flag in the center of the dome. “Fight!”

Roxy and Lenita crashed together like lightning. They moved so quickly that John had a hard time telling them apart. Red blurred into purple. Blades glittered in the firelight from the surrounding torches. The atmosphere was electric with excitement.

A blinding light coated Roxy’s blades as she took another swing, breaking straight through Lenita’s weapon and slicing two bright red streaks into the Scorpion girl’s arms.

It was over almost as quickly as it had begun.

“One win to Roxy!”

Another purple-haired girl rushed from the edge of the dome to Lenita’s side. She laid her hands over the wounds and closed her eyes. John watched as a warm glow washed over the girl’s body and into Lenita’s arms. When she dropped her hands, Lenita’s wounds were healed without a trace of blood.

“Magic…?” John whispered in disbelief.

The fighting continued. One by one, Roxy felled her opponents with terrifying speed. Besides the short breaks she took for water, Roxy’s stamina—her [Energy], apparently—seemed endless. She didn’t look the least bit winded.

“We’ve been training her for years,” Stevie murmured in John’s ear as if reading his thoughts. “Clan Vixen will not fall this age.”

As Roxy defeated the last girl from Clan Rush, Stevie wrapped her fingers in John’s hair, scraping her nails along his scalp.

“It has been witnessed!” The referee raised Roxy’s arm with a brilliant smile. “The new man goes to Clan Vixen!”

The onlookers cheered and screamed. Carnal howls sounded from Vixen’s corner.

Stevie leaned forward and nibbled John’s ear. “You’re mine tonight, Johnny.”

Day 372

John stopped questioning most of the ways of life on The Claw. 

The clans made their own food and bullets. Their technology was a combination of magic and what they had available. They took care of him and each other. They’d armed and armored him, and he found that he enjoyed learning how to repair and maintain their weapons and motorcycles—he preferred it over the spreadsheets and work emails. 

In time, he discovered that it wasn’t the other clans or the catgirls he had to worry about. It was the Encroachers and the Defiled. Fearsome beasts the likes of which he’d only ever seen in horror movies.

John lay quietly beside Jackie, watching as she slept. Every three hundred days, they handed him to the clan that won the battle of the Summit. Gypsy had been the second clan to win the breeding privilege.

But Jackie felt like a friend. He found himself in her bed almost every night.

When he left Clan Vixen, Stevie’s parting words to him were a warning. Even after two months, they still rang loud in John’s ears.

No man has ever survived more than eight hundred days on The Claw.

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[jerakeenc]

Rambly and fluffy.

[ageofevermore]

Eighteen | T. Holland

Summary → you’re tired of feeling like the world silences you, but after an interview with sebastian and anthony, you start to wonder if maybe it’s your fault.

Warning(s) → mentions of anxiety, mentions of sexual harassment, mentions of inequality in gender roles, use of the word slut, fluff if you squint 

Word Count → 1.9k

Note → this is a heavier topic, one that might be personal to some. if you don’t think you can handle the subject matter, please don’t force yourself to. this is relatively watered down, but it doesn’t take a genius to see what’s not being said. the ending features boyfriend!tom consoling the reader, so it does end on a fluffy note, but don’t hold out for those few ending paragraphs. 

add yourself to my taglist 

It’s getting hotter in the interviews. A thin layer of sweat sparkles on your skin, and even though the air conditioning has been turned down multiple times, there are too many people in the room to feel any drastic differences. It’s unfortunate for you. Hot flashes are a lovely addition to your anxiety disorder, and press always sets your nerves ablaze. It doesn't matter what project you’re promoting, who you're partnered with, or what you're wearing-- you’re always hot. 

Your cheeks are flushed dangerously when the last interview before lunch is called for yourself, Sebastian, and Anthony. This is your first press tour as an adult. You joined the marvel franchise years ago, when being eighteen felt like the equivalent of turning thirty, and you weren’t blind to the changes of tone. People were harsher to you, more forward. If they weren’t shutting you up, they were hinting at something less then appropriate, usually something sexual. 

The next interview started with a short introduction to the media outlet, and your interviewer. He was middle aged, kind smile, salt and pepper hair. He asked for your names, then he told you his, and one by one he shook your hands. His grip on you was criminal, lasting longer than was comfortable. Sebastian and Anthony we’re oblivious to the few extra seconds of contact between you and him, but it made your skin crawl in a familiar discomfort. 

Your fingers curled into fists, heart high in your throat. The questions started out easy. They were mostly directed towards the boys, like always, but this time you couldn’t find yourself to be annoyed. You had dealt with handsy and sexually charged men before, but he set a fire beneath you. It wasn’t behavior you should tolerate, but being a woman in the industry, inappropriate touches and glances we’re easier ignored then dealt with. When you spoke up you caused drama, made headlines, attracted nasty social media comments that called you a whore. It was easier to just internalize. 

“Y/N.” 

You hummed, looking towards the call of your name. He was smiling sweetly at you again, a predatory glint in his eyes that put you on edge. You shifted your weight closer to Anothony unconsciously giving the hungry man your professional attention and a nod. 

He shuffles through his index cards, but his eyes don’t read the scripted questions his employers have supplied him with. It’s not often male interviews do their own research, usually they’re briefed by a colleague and handed a set of questions and topic point by a higher level employee, but this man doesn’t even read the card before he’s staring you down and opening his mouth. 

“You finally got the Stark suit update,” He says, motioning towards the promo poster that shows off your CGI suit in all of its edited glory. Although the actual costume is breathtaking, the computer effects give it an entirely different, more technologically charged, feel. 

“Yeah,” You nod, a forced smile on your lips as you try to ease the uncomfortable tension from your tone. “She’s finally--” 

He cuts you off before you can give him any explanation for the upgrade. He isn’t the first one to address your new wardrobe, but he’s the first one to leave you antsy and uncomfortable. Sebastian frowns when you’re cut off, but he doesn’t think much of it. He lets the man continue, though a professional sharpness pulls his grin into a scowl. 

“Were you able to wear undergarments underneath it? It’s tight, doesn’t leave much to the imagination. Was there ever a moment where you reflected how much your wardrobe has changed through the years?” He asks, a dirty grin on his lips. 

Sebastian and Anthony are shocked at the blunt, inappropriate construction of his question. The public eye knew nothing of your battles with body image, or health concerns that lead to surgery. Your mind was plagued with doubts and self-criticism, and his invasive, pervy question both infuriated you and broke you apart. 

You stutter to find an answer, heat overwhelming you. Your hand grips onto Anthony’s arm, and you can’t decide whether anger is what burns your skin or anxiety. Are you making a big deal of this? You don’t know. You feel like you have every right to feel violated and uncomfortable, but you’re a young woman in the entertainment industry, isn’t this the kind of ignorant commentary you signed up for? You don’t know anymore. You grew up with people always having an opinion on your appearance, sexualizing you as early as twelve. You’ve carried around pepper spray and  self-defense keychains long before you even had an understanding towards predatory men and sexual assault. You’ve been conditioned by the world and the media to carry on with your day, no matter the broken boundaries or disrespect. You’re tired of remaining silent, feeling like your less than your male counterparts. Women and men should hold no differing values in society, and yet you walk to your apartment with keys between your fingers and Tom doesn’t even lock his front door. 

“I don’t think that’s an appropriate question.” You choke out, voice hard and nowhere near the soft and frilly pitch it usually obtains. You’re livid, absolutely pissed to the point of a quivering cupids bow. You’re humiliated, and horrified. Your feelings are everywhere, but you remain as professional as you can. If you yell, try to defend yourself at all, you’ll be painted as a diva in every media outlet for the next week, subliminally inviting backlash and slut-shaming comments into your social media messages. If Sebastian and Anthony come to your defense, they’ll be sung high-praises. 

The double standards men and women are held to, especially in the industry, is infuriating. 

He stumbles out a response, but his time is already up. For the first time today, you’re thankful these interviews are only ten minutes. He leaves the room, shown out by security, and even then he still sends you a wink over his shoulder as if your glimmering eyes meant nothing. 

“Hey,” Sebastian's voice is soft, his hand on the small of your back. You flinch away from his contact, head heavy in memories you’d rather forget. 

“Sorry,” You mumble, voice trembling with tears that you refuse to let fall. You’ve already been humiliated, you don’t need to further paint yourself as some helpless teenage girl. “I’m sorry. I’m going to go find Tom.” 

Anthony and Sebastian nod tightly. They watch as you quiver in your heels, hands clenched into fists at your sides. They’re proud of the way you handled yourself, though still absolutely enraged that any adult would find it appropriate to address you like that, especially in a professional setting. 

You stumble into the dressing rooms, right into your boyfriend's chest. Your mind is racing, but the minute you attach yourself to him, you break down. Shy sobs break Tom’s heart. He holds the back of your head to his chest, other hand on the small of your back and wrapped around your waist as you cry. You’re trying to stay quiet, but the attention is already on you. Chris and Robert are worried, and Zoe’s trying to act like she hasn’t noticed, but they don’t all watch as you try to console yourself with your boyfriend's warmth. 

“What happened?” Tom’s voice is soft, trying to keep this a private moment. He tries to move the both of you back into a corner, but you panic and squeeze around his waist tighter. “Baby,” 

You and Tom have been dating for six months, and although you’ve shared with him stories of your traumatic experiences as a woman living in LA, he’s never seen anything upset you like this. 

“I’m such a slut.” Your words come out so shy and small, you aren’t even sure you can hear yourself. No matter how  many times you tell yourself that your makeup and clothes don’t give men permission to make passes or feel you up, it’s getting harder to believe that your verbal consent is as strong as your clothes. Maybe you are asking for it, and in a wave of nausea, disgusted with yourself, your arms leave Tom’s waist to pull at the bottom of your borrowed dress. 

You’ve been hit on in sweats before. In ball gowns and crop tops. Somebody’s even pushed themselves against you while you wore Tom’s hoodie, but you still convince yourself that it’s your fault. That you we’re asking for it. 

Tom’s jaw sets harshly into place, and he tilts your chin upwards to meet his eye. His brown stare is hard, only adding to your distress. Maybe he agrees. Maybe he’ll blame you for what just happened. He’s probably going to break up with you. Other guys just can’t keep their hands and eyes off of you. He doesn’t want a slut for a girlfriend. 

“What the fuck did you just say, Y/N?” His tone causes you to flinch, words bouncing off of the dressing room walls. Everyone flinches, hearing only his heavy response. You try to divert your attention, but Tom squeezes your jaw, forcing your eyes back on his. “Say it again.” 

“I’m such a slut.” You sniffle, submitting beneath his fiery glare. Tensions are high as you try not to break down again. Apart from Tom, everyone in the room has watched you grow up, never losing that shy and sweet sense of yourself. You’re an exuberant light, a brilliant scene partner, a rising star who has big things in store for the future. You are many things, but a slut, isn’t one of them. 

Tom looks behind you, glaring straight at Anthony and Sebastion who are both stone eyed and still. They’ve not calmed down any since leaving the production room, instead, it seems their anger has only risen. The sight of you so distraught churns their stomachs. 

“Some asshole tried to make a pass.” Sebastion said in short, words angry and delivered as such. 

Tom’s breath hitched, his arms tightening around you and pulling you closer to his chest. His chin digs into your crown, eyes pinches shut as his hot exhale feels heavy. 

“You aren’t a slut, Y/N.” He doesn’t leave any room for argument, but you try anyways. Tom has no patience for it, and so he tilts your head back and plants his lips against yours harshly and eagerly, desperate to show you love and intimacy. “You. Aren’t. A. Slut.”

You nod, ducking your head back down into his chest as you try to believe him-- try to remember that you never asked for hands around your waist, or cupping your boobs. Wolf whistles, or handshakes that turn into forced frontal hugs. You didn’t ask for any of the harassment, no matter the outfits you wore and what they revealed.  

Tom lowers his voice, whispers melting into your hair, “This isn’t your fault, baby. Please believe me. None of this, is your fault. It’s disgusting and inappropriate, and you don’t deserve to deal with any of it.” 

You sniffle. You can’t tell him you believe him, not yet. Not when your heart is so heavy. Maybe one day you’ll believe him, but that’s just not now. 

taglist (urls with a strike through won’t let my tag) →

@deionswannabegirl @killingbxys @mauvesdior @mischiefandi @dmonchld @waddlenut @tanakaslastbraincell @hollandsxheart @quacksonhehe @tothemoonandbackx3000 @stiles-o-dylan24 @tikapollak @tomthetease @spookybooisa @geminiparkers @teen--marvel @rogersparkerbarnes @sarcasticallywitty15

[bangtanpromptsfics]

pyxis.

dialogue prompt #9: “Cheer up it's Christmas Eve, sweetheart”

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: christmas au, brother's best friend au, fluff, childhood friends to lovers

word count: 3,412 (oh no)

warnings: reader is a lil sad but nothing angsty tho

summary: christmas was always an eager wait. less for the tree decorations, family dinner and the fuss of toddlers. more for your childhood best friend who you kissed under a mistletoe years back.

a/n: ahhh!!! I'm not completely satisfied with how this turned out to be. the inspiration was from a few christmas themed fics I read here and the movie ‘It's Christmas, Eve’. anyway this was my attempt though it's nowhere near christmas time. one of my personal goals is to celebrate a christmas like the west, the snow, the fuss and the commotion ;-;. Also I lost sense of time and space and this turned out to be 3k ;-;

masterlist

“Cheer up it's christmas eve, sweetheart”, your mother chimes as she pours brown batter into little cupcake moulds.

You simply smile at her, the festive mood not really getting to you because of exhaustion. Uni was tough, and enjoying this Christmas when you know you have tons of essays due in a few days was hammering inside your brain every now and then.

“Is that chocolate?”, you ask, leaning your tired body on the counter where she is at work.

“And orange”, she smiles, turning around to preheat the oven.

“Where's Jin”. Though you hated the routinely flicks against your forehead, the absence of your big brother felt weird.

“He went with Jimin to get the Christmas tree”.

The mention of Jimin brings a smile to your face. His soft features and captivating grin filling your head. If there was one of the few things you enjoyed coming back to your hometown for holidays, it's chocolate cupcakes your mom bakes and Jimin.

His family are friends with yours after all. You, Jin and Jimin attended the same school until college and other priorities in life drift you apart. Though the bond must have rusted a bit, you can't deny the fact that you still have that crush which started somewhere in middle school, on a chritmas eve like this when he kissed your cheeks shyly under the mistletoe. Your friends and family, and even Jimin himself must have seen it nothing more than platonic, but you still find yourself relieving the moment in your head however crazy it may sound.

Standing up straight, you decide to fix your bed hair and complete the skincare routine before the said duo drops.

“Mrs. Y/L/n...”, Jimin softly kicks the back door. He is carrying one end of a huge fir, and your brother on the other end, grunting from the freezing snow outside.

“Oh dear place it right there”, you mother is quick to her feet helping the boys and doing her usual commentary on how well the tree looked.

Jimin looks more handsome than ever, especially with his nose and cheeks dusted in scarlet from the cold. He looks really huggable in his fluffy sweaters and red beanie. Jin is busy commanding around so you choose to sit back, a very typical sibling energy and the size of decoration boxes and the tree itself not really appetizing to your will to find any strength.

“Hey Y/n!”, Jimin stares back at your eyes in a split moment which has your lashes fluttering suddenly. You probably look like you are carrying a disease and right now you become very hyper aware of that.

“You alright? You look tired”, he comments. You feel his eyes carefully studying the black under your eyes and worrying his mind because that's what he is like. He cares about everyone and everything, has a heart so soft it hurts to even think about it.

“Jet lag...”, you say, “I'll be fine”. You shoot a little thumbs up on his way to reassure.

“Why didn't Jin get the tree earlier? It's Christmas in a few hours”, you dodge the focus around you and walk near in an attempt to closely examine the tree for no reason other than feeling Jimin’s eyes a little too long on you.

Your brother gets visibly annoyed seeing you start a very unnecessary talk. So he is completely obliged to shoot back with, “Because you were in charge of Christmas decorations this year but your lazy ass flew down here only yesterday”.

“You know I was busy with Uni!”

“Whatever”, he shrugs, getting back to the box of tree decorations. You feel a little bad seeing yourself not being helpful during a festive season. It felt like you were procrastinating on your responsibilities as always.

“Um...is there any way I can help?”, you ask softly, earning a mischievous grin from Jin and your mom fills in the answer.

“We need more baubles. Also I missed out gifts for Aerum and June, so maybe you can get them”. Now this was already tiring and you were not lying earlier either, the jet lag was still choking you alive. You wonder if the huge pile of stars and glitters beside your foot aren't enough but then maybe it's true because this is the largest fir you ever saw for Christmas in your house. And speaking of the five year old notorious duo, your cousins-- Aerum and June, you have no other option than to step out into the butt numbing cold and get something for the sake of not getting your brains eaten.

While you stand there doing these calculations, Jimin puts a two and two and immediately suggests to tag along with you.

“That'd be great! Thanks sweetie”, your mom chimes, her fine lines of face gathering around her eyes while she does so and you catch her throwing a wink to your side and you pretend you never saw that.

“Thank you Jimin”, you smile in all honesty while he reciprocates the same.

“No problem. I'll get my car. Will you be ready in an hour? I think you just woke up”

“Uh...yeah”, you fake a laugh, “Yes I'll be ready in an hour”

Jimin still lives here in your hometown, attends a community college nearby and his house is just a few steps away from your own. You remember how you had the same analogy in your mind as well. You like living here. You like Jimin’s company. The lake Park and the annual ice skating competition in December and the bookstores and coffee shops at the outskirts of the town. And you can't seem to clearly remember when and where that feeling started to become foreign. Maybe it was a teenage quirk to explore the world that you are now a three hour flight away from all of this. It wasn't a deep regret, but seeing Jimin, it almost felt like it. It felt like you betrayed him. Because he seemed to be keeping his word to this day.

This year, it's a few degrees lower than what it usually is and you find yourself chattering your teeth together as you walk to Jimin’s house.

His footsteps rush to get the door as soon as you ring the doorbell and he greets with the same wide grin as if he hasn't just saw you an hour ago.

“Let's go?”, he asks immediately, getting house keys from his coat pocket and locking the front door before stepping out making you confused.

“There's no one home? Where are your parents?”

“Oh well didn't Mrs. Y/L/n tell you?”, he studies your features and gets his response so he continues “They went to New York this year for Christmas. It's some elder people thing I think...so I'll be spending Christmas this year with your family”

“Really!?”, you chime, and then immediately notice a very childish jump you did with tiny fists and all, feeling a little embarrassed at yourself, “Ah... uh I mean that's great”.

“Yeah”, he giggles, sounding like a twelve year old who is still waiting for his growth spurt, “Get in the car it's freezing in here”.

Since it's been six odd months you've spoken to Jimin, you figured it would would be strange and awkward to be with him, but his demeanor states otherwise. He could effortlessly begin conversations and build momentum with you and by the time you are at a thrift store, he is aware of the little gist of student life and the dramatically exaggerated history research paper still due.

“What are you getting for the twins?”, he asks, seeing you checking out the kids toys section with absolutely no idea and that's exactly what you reply to him.

“How about this puzzle?”, he brings a big jigsaw to your glance and you figure it's a great thing to have their little brains engaged and give yourself time to breathe.

“It's perfect!”, you add, immediately placing it your cart with a few decors you picked up from earlier aisles.

Jimin places an extra pack of Christmas candies in the cart, and you send him a questionable look knowing it's his way of bribing the kids coming this evening. He puts too much effort into people's happiness, something you wish you were capable of as well.

The shopping went smooth. It was therapeutic to get hot chocolate with extra marshmallows afterwards like he insisted followed by that very cliche movie scene where one of them develops a creme moustache and the other notices and dabs it off.

You want this moment to linger a little longer, but your whole family arrives in less than two hours and the decorations were due. If Jin doesn't have you in the next thirty minutes he might as well eat all the cupcakes your mom is baking as revenge.

“I had a great time”, Jimin states as he stops the car in front of your house, stealing the words from your mouth and warmth hugs your cheeks immediately.

“Me too. It's been long since we spent time with each other”

You hear a lone sigh with white fogs coming out of his plump lips while he does so, as if he were suddenly sad when you mentioned that.

“Are you okay?”

His grips tightens around the steering, “I've missed you”, he says, eyes meeting slowly. And as if he was suddenly pulled back to earth he conjures another sentence to not sound so vulnerable.

“I uh... It's just--”

“I've missed you too”

Even with the gear box painstakingly blocking the way, you throw your upper half towards his body anyways and you find him hugging you back. His hugs still feel the same from years back; safe and warm and filled with love.

If it wasn't for the constant reminder that your brother is probably plotting a murder against you, you would've stayed much longer in his embrace. Maybe the hug was a big straightforward for a bond still gradually blooming, but it didn't feel weird at all and when you pull back he is smiling down at you.

“I thought you two lovebirds flew off”, a very annoyed Jin states from above you. He is balancing himself on a chair to attach the mistletoe to the ceiling.

“Sorry hyung”, Jimin says. And somehow now you are getting super aware of the way your family is low key shipping you both. Not that it's an irritating thing of course though you seem to act like it. But you have no idea what's going on with Jimin, what if he said he missed you as your childhood friend? It's a lot difficult to segregate his priority of giving affection. He seems to be giving justice in terms of care for every living being he knows.

“The circus is on its way so I hope you both hurry with putting up everything together”, the voice above states, now lowering himself to ground after putting up the twig.

Three of you giggle at the mention of your family as a circus. Well in a way it definitely was. You have a bunch if uncles who crack awful jokes, a trait Jin himself as picked up from a tender age of ten. Then their wives and kids who share certainly the same braincells in comprehending things. You bet they'll ask you again about your major and your dating history once they walk in through that door amidst clearly stating everytime that you are a history major and yes still very single.

In the hallway there is a half decorated tree. A thread of fairly lights wrapped around the green and very few baubles hanging here and there.

“I'll put up the star and join you”, Jimin says, digging out a golden star from the carton. Though now he doesn't know why it was a good idea for him to announce that when both of you were almost the same height. He is just a few centimeters taller than you and the top of the fir is still very much way above your heads.

So with a chuckle you both figure Jin has to do it.

“This is your final year right?”, Jimin asks stepping closer to you. He seemed nervous about something. Or was it anxious?

“Yeah...you?”

“Yeah...”, his sweet tone was drawn almost like a whisper and you sense you should ask him further about what's wrong. But before you had to deal with a starter he continues,

“Are you planning to work in Chicago as well?”

“Sweetheart help me clean up the kitchen please”, your hear your mom's voice overpowering through the house. Which is good. Because you don't know what you are supposed to answer. It was as if he was almost hopeful that you'll choose your hometown all over again. But you aren't sure. So you take the opportunity to step away from the situation excusing yourself.

And while you are clearing the blobs of batter stuck on the counter, your mind is a haywire. What are you going to do? Though you know your whole family wants you to stay, it's still a foggy place to be in. Four years apart in another city as a college student has not provided much, except caffeine addiction and sleepless nights. Things were not even as fun as everyone told you.

A few steps away Jimin silently prays that you stay, because he had truly missed you. Even though you have outgrown from the eighteen year old shell as he had known, he finds himself actively choosing to be with you. Even when other things in life occupies his mind, there's an element of it which goes back to you.

“They are here!”. You groan silently, while your parents are throwing their hands in air, giggles and chatter fills in as your uncles and aunts and the taunting toddlers welcome themselves in.

“Y/n! You have grown so much!”, the older aunt comments, and you supply a manufactured smile to tag along. Other comments follow by soon, about how tired you are, gasps about not having a partner and future plans, all of which are not completely answerable at the moment but you manage to get through them all and finally excusing yourself back to the garage convincing there are more decor supplies in there.

Families are nice. They make festivals brighter and lives less lonely. But yours was just hard sometimes. Not that you completely loathed the people now fueling themselves off the cup cakes your mom bakes, you were just merely lost, still yet to come up with an answer to what your stance is after graduation.

“Hey...”. Jimin has joined you now which you notice feeling a warmth against your shoulder when he sits, with an extra scraf knowing the garage is still comparatively chilly than the house, “you okay?”.

“Yeah...I was just...thinking”

“Is this about earlier? I'm sorry if I made you anxious”, he quickly adds.

“No!...I mean yeah but, it's high time I find a ground with this. What are your plans?”

“I was thinking about teaching at Jefferson High”, he shifts rather uncomfortably. He is talking of the school in your town, your school, where you have lots of memories with Jimin, “You know...like we said during Junior year in high school?”

“I'm sorry Jimin”, you feel the guilt inside you growing, “I never kept my promises”.

“Hey...that's okay! Everyone changes. I just want you to be happy. I...I hope you are happy Y/n”, he reassures, taking your hand from your side and squeezing it between his soft palms.

“I don't know about that either...”

As much as you hated showcasing vulnerability to another person, you know Jimin is an exception. You had cried to him about everything during school days and he had never invalidated a single thing, even when you were visibly dramatic over a downpour during a family picnic when you were five.

Jimin is frozen on his seat as if he can't find the words. He was never good with words so instead he hugs you, a little longer than the last time till he is sure you have calmed down. Grateful for not ending up crying, you smile up at him and remind yourselves to get back inside to avoid suspicion, especially from the kids who take humiliating people as an important milestone to achieve.

When you enter back inside and get immediately surrounded by a million questions and chores thrown at you, you find your answer. Maybe your heart belongs back to everything your younger self had blabbered about. Not to mention, this fairly good reunion with your crush feels nice, though, he might still see it as platonic. Maybe he makes things less daunting.

By the way Jimin was owning everyone's heart in the house, it felt like he was family. Well in a way he is. But to put more clarity, he bought things together and his actions bought so much peace and love within everyone. Even the notorious twins listen carefully to him and help the uncles and aunts in the kitchen.

He is again by your side, two cupcakes rests on his palms and you take it with a silent ‘thanks’.

Seeing no signs of him beginning a talk now, you think of coming up with something. Maybe a memoir from today? Or about how absolutely handsome he looks right now? Wait.

“They are under the kissing twig!”, Aerum screams like the house caught in fire, her sibling joining by the side to provoke the habit even more.

“It's called a mistletoe Aerum”, your aunt corrects before pasting a smug across her lips.

Nothing changed. They are the same people. Hyping you and Jimin to kiss just like when you were thirteen. If the factor of time is removed, this is the exact night. Both of you cemented to the flooring as if you forgot to exist.

Both of your necks snap together to the mistletoe Jin had attached to the ceiling earlier. And when you lower your gaze back, face gawks at each other eye to eye. It's the same. He has that blush, the shyness from years ago. It's going to be platonic. Yet again. And this moment will only ever be romantic and flowery in your head.

June was the first to squeak, and Aerum shuts her eyes the moment Jimin is leaning his mouth towards your lips. It was difficult to relax under the stares of many, but when he ghosts his mouth over your again and leans in for a second kiss, you are fixated on him. Hands holding each other, the plump of his lips so soft it felt like you were biting into a fluff of cloud.

Maybe he'll have an explanation to your family for this. Not like anyone in the audience was disappointed. Your mother was almost in tears? And Jin looked hardly surprised with any of this. As if it was all swell according to his plans.

“You both are so cute”, one of the aunts awes and your mother is quick by her side, completely agreeing to it.

“Jimin...”, you return your gaze to the equally flustered man who just kissed you and he sounded almost breathless,

“I'm sorry if this was wrong it ju--”

“I like you”, you immediately snap in and his face is a void for an instant. Fully processing the words, his eyes disappear when he grins, “I like you too...a lot”.

“Are you two dating?”, the twins haven't dropped the case yet, running to your feet to help their curious brains.

“Yes...”, Jimin responds, looking up at you for a reassurance, which you quickly supply with a nod, “Yes we are dating”.

When the kids are satisfied they go away snickering to themselves.

“I decided to stay”, you say.

“Really!?”, his disbelief was comical, yet wholesome considering how much he wished for this, “I'm...I'm so happy!”.

Giggling at him, this time you lean forward and peck the corner of his lips.

“You lovebirds better get a room”, Jin announces and thankfully not loud enough to catch everyone else's attention.

Usually Jin expects a punch to his arms from his sister, but he sees how grateful you are for his mistletoe decor. He leaves the couple, satisfied that there won't be any more ranting about how much Jimin likes you.

Thank you so much for reading!! ♡♡

Original Content of ©bangtanpromptsfics

[charlies-gillespie]

it’s okay not to be okay | charlie gillespie

paring: fem!reader x charlie gillespie

summary: reader is having a bad mental health day so Charlie tries to do what he can to help her

length: short to medium

rating: PG

warnings: mentions of anxiety, an anxiety attack, some angsty content (but also some fluffy content)

!! NOT MY GIF !!

MASTERLIST

authors note: may is mental health month. i wanted to write a little something to maybe help someone understand what they can do if someone they know is having a bad day or struggling with their mental health. and if you’re struggling, please know that it’s okay not to be okay and to please ask for help if you need it

Your alarm screams at you to wake up. You sigh, rolling over and turning it over. Once it’s off, you roll onto your back and stare up at the ceiling. You think about the day ahead and lose motivation the more you lay and think about your day.

You have virtual interviews with all day with your boyfriend and Julie and the Phantoms co-star, Charlie Gillespie. He’s supposed to be here any minute. The thought of him knocking on the door sends your anxiety skyrocketing. Interviews are not your strong suit. You try to avoid them as often as you can, or you get someone you’re comfortable with to do them with you. Today, even the thought of doing an interview makes your hands shake.

It’s about eight in the morning and you can already tell that it’s going to be a rough day. You can’t even get out of bed this morning and you’re already feeling unmotivated. All you’ve done is turn off your alarm and your hands are sweaty.

There’s a buzz that comes from the table that makes you jump. You see Charlie’s contact pop up on your phone and you grab the device. You answer it, putting the phone on speaker and resting it on your chest. “Hey,” you sigh.

“Hi,” Charlie says. “I just pulled up to your house. Is everything ready to go for interviews today?”

With a nod, you say, “Yeah. I turned my stream room into a little studio. My streaming gear has turned into interview gear.”

Charlie says, “I’m on my way in. Can you come open the door? I have breakfast for us before our first interview in a little bit.”

You swallow and say, “Yeah. I’m on my way down now.”

The line goes dead. You push yourself to get up out of bed. You rub your face and walk down the stairs. Your first interview is in about 30 minutes and you’re nowhere near ready.

When you open the door, you see Charlie standing at your door with his laptop in one hand and a bag full of iHop food for breakfast. He looks you up and down in your pajamas and says, “We have a Pop Buzz interview in less than 30 minutes and you’re not ready?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, not being able to make eye contact with Charlie. “Sorry.”

Your boyfriend walks inside and he says, “Let’s go get you dressed, eh?”

You close the door and say, “But you brought over breakfast to eat before the first interview.”

Charlie puts the iHop bag down on the coffee table in the living room, as well as his laptop, before he says, “We can heat it up after the first interview is done. One thing at a time, Y/N.”

He laces his fingers with yours and walks you upstairs. You blink as you walk with him, slightly confused. You walk into your bedroom and walk to your closet. Charlie sits on your bed, looking at you as you raid your closet for something you can wear.

In the end, you find a Sunset Curve t-shirt and sweatpants because you don’t feel like getting dressed up. The t-shirt is white with black writing and it cut to look like a crop top. The sweats are black and loose on your body. You’re pretty sure you stole these from Charlie because they’re huge on you. You tie your hair up into a messy bun and turn toward Charlie.

“Look at you,” your boyfriend says. “You look very comfortable and very cute in my sweatpants.”

You say, “So these are your sweatpants.”

Charlie laughs and kisses the side of your head before saying, “I was looking for those all over my apartment. You can keep them though. You look cute in them.”

The two of you head downstairs. You walk into your streaming room. Charlie follows you inside. He’s been in here before but he’s never learned how to use any of this stuff.

You sit in your gaming chair and Charlie pulls up another chair to sit beside you.

“Zoom?” you ask, turning on your PC.

He nods and pulls out his phone. “The code was sent to our emails,” Charlie says. You log into your work email and find the code. The interview starts in five minutes. Your heart races and your hands shake as you type on your computer.

After getting Zoom up on your PC, you stare at the mouse hovering above the “join with video” button. Quickly, you turn to Charlie and say, “I can’t.”

Charlie looks at you and asks, “You can’t what?”

You can feel your breathing speed up as you say, “The interview. Charlie, I can’t.”

He realizes what’s going on and he takes your hands in his. “Y/N,” he says softly. “You can do it. It’s just having a conversation, okay? You can have conversations. Don’t think of it like an interview and think of it as a conversation. I’ll be right here and you can hold my hand during the whole thing. You know Owen, Jer, Madi, Sav, and Sacha will all be on the screen in front of you. You’ll do amazing.”

With some reassurance from Charlie, you nod but stay quiet. He gives you a reassuring smile before he takes over, clicking the button to join the call. You scoot your chair closer to Charlie. “Where am I looking, by the way,” he asks.

You point at the little camera in front of the ring light that you have on. You and Charlie join the Zoom. Owen says, “Look who showed up thirty seconds before the interview starts.”

Charlie quickly hushes his best friend and the interview starts. Throughout the whole thing, you’re rubbing your hands on your sweats and constantly looking over at Charlie. The interviewer thinks it’s cute that you keep looking at Charlie, but the interviewer doesn’t know it’s because you’re right on the verge of another anxiety attack. The smile on your face is very obviously fake but no one questions it. Charlie does most of the talking.

As soon as everyone says their goodbyes after the interview, Charlie quickly presses the “leave meeting” button. As soon as you’ve both left the meeting, you exhale the breath you’ve been holding in for most of the interview.

Concerned, your boyfriend asks, “How are you doing?”

“I hate it,” you admit. “But it’s part of my job.”

He stands up and says, “You did really good. I know how anxious these interviews are for you but you did it, Y/N. I’m so proud.”

A little smile forms on your face and you ask, “Can we heat up the iHop now?”

Charlie laughs and nods. You stand up and take his hand.

***

After several more anxiety inducing interviews later, you finally get about two hours off. You find yourself curled up on the couch with your chin on your knees. You have no idea why these interviews are so anxiety inducing today. You love acting, you usually love talking to people about acting and singing. You have to push yourself through every interview, you don’t look as good as you probably should for these interviews.

Your boyfriend finds you on the couch but your mind is so busy, you don’t notice him as he sits beside you. “Baby,” Charlie says, trying to get your attention. “Hey, Y/N.” You look over at him and he brushes something away from your cheek. “Baby, why are you crying?”

Confused, you say, “I’m not crying.”

Charlie blinks at you and says, “Your cheeks are wet. Talk to me.” He rests a hand on your knee and looks at you.

With a sigh, you say, “I’m frustrated. I’m frustrated that I have days where I have to push myself to do things. I’m frustrated that doing my job gives me anxiety. When I have these days, I contemplate why I’m an actress when talking about my job, while part of my job, gives me anxiety.”

He listens to every word that you say before he begins to talk.

“Y/N, baby, you’re an actress because it’s what you love to do,” Charlie tells you. “It’s the same reason you’re a singer. You love to do it. You’ll have these days sometimes, and that’s okay, but Y/N, I know you. You are the strongest person I know. Whatever’s going today, you’ll get through it. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

This is the man that you fell in love with. This is the man that you hope to marry one day. He doesn’t run when you’re having a bad day. Charlie is the person you go to when you’re having one of these days and he’ll come over to help you through it.

You scoot closer to Charlie and rest your head on his shoulder. You close your eyes and you say, “I don’t deserve you, Charlie.”

Charlie kisses the side of your head and says, “You deserve the world. After these last two interviews today, you and I are having a movie night in bed with lots of cuddles and kisses.”

“Cuddles and kisses?” you repeat, looking up at Charlie.

He presses a soft kiss to your lips before he says, “Lots and lots of cuddles and kisses.”

You press your forehead to Charlie’s cheek, closing your eyes. Charlie wraps his arms around your curled up body.

The day gets just a little bit easier after Charlie promises kisses and cuddles after the interviews are over. You love and appreciate that Charlie doesn’t run from the relationship when you’re sad or anxious. He embraces it and helps you through the rough days.

That night, after all the interviews are over for the day, you do lay in bed and you watch The Space Between Us on Netflix while cuddled up with Charlie. You’ve been like this for a few hours now and a thought has been on your mind.

“Charlie,” you say, looking up at your boyfriend.

He looks down at you and asks, “What’s up? Need something?”

You move until you’re on your stomach against Charlie’s side. You say, “I don’t want you to go.”

Your boyfriend says, “If you want me to stay the night then I will. I don’t have any plans tonight.”

“No, I mean I don’t want to have to say goodbye to you in the morning,” you say. “I want to fall asleep beside you every night and wake up beside you every morning.”

Charlie pushes a piece of hair out of your face and he asks, “Are you asking me to move in with you?”

You say, “I don’t want to call you to come over when I’m having a bad day when you could already be here. I have half a closet and half a bed that aren’t being used, plus lots of room on my bathroom counter.”

He laughs and says, “Yes, baby. I’ll move in with you. I wouldn’t mind falling asleep with you in my arms or waking up to your cute face every morning.”

A soft laugh escapes your lips and you say, “Good, because I would love it if I could fall asleep in your arms every night. Starting tonight.”

“Starting tonight,” Charlie assures you. You smile and snuggle up to your boyfriend. He securely wraps his arms around your shoulders and you close your eyes, feeling at home and safe in Charlie’s arms.

[caws5749]

Sooo... Idk where this came from since the TV show playing rn has nothing to do with fluff. But! For Your Family series.. Nat and Reader take the kids to the park or beach once Little Bean is allowed to go outside and have some nice family day. Bonus brownie points if Reader sees Nat truly interact with Little Bean and falls in love again (deeper this time). Idk. Just tooth rooting fluff.

Ps. I almost suggest a little angst, but i remembered this was your fluffy baby. Lol.

A/N: vee, you and ur angst haha! I’m so glad you requested this, this might literally be the purest thing I’ve ever seen. also “little bean” is adorable too and I hope it’s okay if I use that as the baby’s nickname

Post A/N: okay so now im gonna have to write a whole vacation series for this series aoeifjawoefij okay okay 

“First outing,” you smiled, barely containing your excitement as you met Natasha in the kitchen. Your wife was cooing to Annika as she buckled her up into her carrier. 

“Domi and Nik ready?” Nat asked, her voice still soft and happy as she smiled at your newborn. 

“Yes, they are,” you replied, hearing the telltale sound of feet running towards you. 

“Do you think the water will be warm?” Nikolus asked, his sunglasses already covering his eyes. 

“Let’s hope,” you chuckled, grabbing the kids’ bags. “Alright, to the car.”

Ten minutes later, everyone was successfully buckled and the car was started. Thirty minutes later, you arrived at the beach. Your family scoped the beach for a nice spot, finding the perfect one without too much trouble. Luckily, the beach was nowhere near as crowded as you’d thought it would be. 

As soon as you’d sat down, Annika was hungry, so you tended to her while Natasha tested out the water with your older children. She came back five minutes later soaking wet, though the warm sun was already drying her off. 

“How is it?” you asked as your wife took a seat next to you. 

“Warm. Dominika and Nik found some shells.”

“They’ll never want to leave,” you chuckled. Nat shook her head lovingly, before focusing on her second daughter. 

“Is she feeding okay?”

“Perfectly. She eats more than Domi and Nik ever did, though. I’m not sure I can keep up,” you admitted. Your wife frowned slightly, her hands adjusting the towel covering you slightly. 

“You’re doing great, Y/N.” 

You hummed, grateful for her encouraging words. Your wife was the only reason you were handling three kids well, if you were being honest. 

“You’re the only reason I’m still sane,” you admitted. 

“And how do you think I’m doing so well?”

Natasha pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before checking to see that Domi and Nik weren’t in any trouble. 

“I’ll take Annika when she’s done,” she hummed. 

“Perfect timing, she just finished,” you smiled, transferring your newborn into your wife’s capable hands. 

“I’m going to go see what they’re up to,” you said, nodding towards your older children. 

“Mom!” Nikolus called as you got closer. “Come see our shells!”

“Wow,” you breathed, looking at the beautiful things in their hands. “Those are gorgeous.”

“We found them over here,” Domi explained, leading you over to the spot. You hung out with them for a few minutes before returning to Natasha. You found her bouncing Annika gently, a fond smile on her face. 

Your heart soared, as it always did when seeing Nat with her kids. She was gentle, happy, caring, and a near-perfect mother. Natasha never failed to amaze you in her versatility. One moment she was fighting robots, calm and collected, yet fierce and focused; the next, she was soft, gentle, loving, and caring for her family. You’d never imagined back when you first met her that you’d be here, with her now. You’d never imagined she was this beautiful a human being. 

“I can’t help but fall in love with you all over again every day,” you murmured, letting your fingers play with strands of her wet hair. 

“The feeling is mutual, Y/N.”

You smiled, cuddling closer on the beach towel and letting your youngest wrap her fist around one of your fingers. Your chin rested on Natasha’s shoulder as you both watched the ocean waves, and your other children. 

“Maybe we should surprise them with a dinner at the pizzeria on the water,” Nat hummed, turning to see what you thought of the idea. You nodded, nuzzling your nose against her cheek before pressing your lips to her skin. 

“Little Bean will probably sleep through it,” you mused. 

“Probably,” your wife agreed, adjusting Annika in her arms. She pressed a kiss to the baby’s nose, laughing when Annika smiled. 

“Babe?” Nat asked a minute later. 

“Mmm?”

“We should go on vacation.”

“Vacation?” you asked, your brows raised. 

“Domi and Nik have been begging for a vacation, and we do have some time off coming up,” Natasha reasoned. You mulled it over; she had a point. 

“Okay,” you murmured, laughing lightly at the smile that overtook her lips. She slammed her lips into yours, as passionately as she could while still keeping a safe hold on your daughter. 

“We’ll start planning tonight.”

“I can’t wait, and I’m sure the kids can’t either. Speaking of, looks like they’re swimming a bit too far out for my liking,” you frowned. 

“I’ll get them,” Nat offered, handing you Annika, pecking your lips before heading down towards the water. You leaned back, watching amusedly as Dominika realized her mother was coming towards them, quickly telling Nik that they needed to swim closer to shore. By the time your wife had made it there, they were practically out of the water, though they were going to get a bit of a warning anyway. You closed your eyes, soaking in the sun. 

If you went on vacation to somewhere warm with a beach, you couldn’t imagine a better thing in the world. Annika squealed in your arms the moment you thought it, and you took it as a sign of agreement. 

“Annika and I think we should vacation somewhere warm, with a beach,” you announced as soon as Natasha had reclaimed her spot. 

“Oh?” she asked, her lips quirking upwards. 

“That’s weird, because I was actually thinking Siberia, in the snow, somewhere were you just can’t seem to get the cold out of your bones,” Natasha teased, her fingers grazing your side and you giggled, shielding your daughter from Nat’s fingers. 

“I love you,” she breathed a minute later, her lips unbelievably close to your own. 

“I love you too.” 

[writerwrites]

Could I Need You This Much

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After Bucky is left at the alter he asks you, his childhood best friend, to go with him to Rome so the non-refundable honeymoon doesn’t go to waste. Wanting to support him through his breakup you decide to telework and tag along. There’s a little problem: You’ve always been oblivious about your own feelings until you’re head over heels.

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: Modern!au, wedding day break-up, language, past injury mention, fluffy... chronically fluffy

A/N: *THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE A ONE SHOT* This is my submission to the [belated] birthday challenge for @burninmatches​​​​ and I chose to combine two prompts from the challenge for this fic. First, the soulmates trope. Second, the song “Head Over Heels” by Tears For Fears ; The beautiful dividers were made by @whimsicalrogers​​​

Bucky was always a quiet person, but you’d never seen him this quiet. You had just stepped out of the bathroom in your cute little tux and mini-bowtie, arms splayed out wide making jazz hands. The proclaimed ‘tada’ fell silent on your ruby-painted lips the moment you saw his downcast gaze at his phone. “Buck? Hey, talk to me, what’s going on?”

Steve was checking to make sure things were good to go; the irony of that, he thought. You would be the one to find him like this. “She broke it off. No wedding.” Those were the only words the Army veteran could muster as his lungs felt like ice and his mind filled with water.

You fell to your knees in front of him, kicking off your shiny black heels and pulling his phone from his hand to throw it to the side. “So let’s go. Let’s get out of here. Steve will take care of the crowd. We’ll get Nat to handle the vendors, she’s intimidating enough to stop them from asking questions. You don’t need to be here. You don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to. You tell me what to do and consider it done.”

This was what you did with the boys. Steve and Bucky were practically brothers and the three of you were the Musketeers of Brooklyn. You had weaseled into their lives because you had been the talker, the sidekick, the advice giver. Advice...you tried your best with this relationship and though you wouldn’t dare say you told him so, there had been so many bumps along the way. Even sweet Steve had drunkenly said Bucky could do better, about as harsh a judgement as Steve could ever muster. She had drunkenly complained that she hated how close the three of you were, you’d brushed it off. Bucky had been played, taken her back more times than you and Steve could count, and he’d put up with so much to make her happy. ‘At what cost’ was all you could manage to think.

There was a guilt in the pit of your stomach, a little voice in the back of your head, this was your fault. Maybe if you’d spoken up, but there wasn’t time to stay stuck in your own head as Bucky started to pull at his slicked back hair. Grabbing his hands in yours, detangling the mess he made, you pulled him up. “We’re getting out of here, simple as that. If you can’t tell me what to do, I’ll take care of this.”

When his rough hands pulled from yours it felt like he was about to protest, but his hands just went back to his face, blocking you from the sight of fresh tears. It was the first time you’d seen him cry from anything other than infectious laughter. Steve was the emotional one, Bucky was the glue, and you were... trading your heels in for the Chelsea boots you’d worn on your bike ride to the chapel. Grabbing your bag, you shoved in his wallet, phone, anything else that was small and his and put the bag on him. Pulling him to the exit you Gave him your helmet and grabbed Steve’s with little hesitation, a fleeting glance at Bucky’s car covered in hideous ‘just married’ decor. “Just hold on to me. It’s been a while since I’ve had anyone bigger than me on the back.”

He didn’t acknowledge you with words, just little tilts of his head, eyes downcast. Even when you started the motorcycle and patted the seat to get on, Bucky marched like a tin soldier to orders. You were grateful for the noise of your bike and the city, and the built in Bluetooth speakers and mic in your helmet so you could call Steve. With a promise to somehow get his helmet back to him and to make up for the shitstorm that he and Nat would have to handle, you hung up and crossed the Brooklyn Bridge and escaped to the one place you knew no one would look for you except possibly Steve, Plumb Beach.

Hand in hand you two walked onto the small beach and you only let go to dig in the bag he still wore for the clothes you’d worn to the chapel to throw them on the sand for the pair of you to have a seat. His eyes searched far and wide, still staying off of you, so to give him some space, you emailed your boss that the three days off next week, your personal time to recover from the partying and subsequent clean up, should just be changed to a full week of telework. With no complaints outside of a joke that you really needed a real vacation, you tucked your phone into your pocket and really looked at Bucky. The sun on his tanned skin, face clean shaven - a rare occurrence, and the lines on his face from years of stress and pain or chronic infectious laughter. As your lips parted to try and weasel the latter out of him, his gentle voice came out in a raspy whisper, “I was looking forward to the trip to Italy. I thought it was going to be a fresh start for us, a new chapter.”

You draped your arm over his shoulder, pulling him close and his chin rested on your shoulder. “Bucky, I know that you know those two things aren’t the same.” Running your fingers through his hair to comfort him like he’d comforted you through your own fair share of breakups, you let out a sigh, “But today it’s okay to let her burn in your lungs and your heart and your head... It’s okay to scream it out or cry. Whatever it takes to not let this moment consume you because you’re going to come out on top. You’re not alone, not for a second.”

When he pulled away you thought he was pulling away for space or going to give some grandiose speech about how you didn’t understand and how he was alone. Instead he was reaching for your hand, pulling you up and, with three squeezes and the corner of his lips you knew what was coming. The quiet countdown, the setting sun, a throwback to junior prom and your ex making out with your nemesis under the bleachers. “One.” You started, eyes on him.

“Two.” His bright blue bloodshot eyes on you.

“Three.” Two pairs of lungs in unison soon empty of air as they let out billowing calls to nowhere.

Two tuxedoed buffoons getting odd looks, Bucky pulling you into his side, and no sound but the waves whispering as you let him process. “Let’s get out of here.”

While you were relieved he was finally stringing along more than a word or two you weren’t sure what he meant. It was the way his eyes seemed to light up like he was having a ‘eureka’ moment. “The last time you looked at me like that you decided we had to take a cross-country road trip before you and Steve left for bootcamp.”

Bucky tugged you back to the bike, “And wasn’t that exactly what we needed?”

Despite your laughter, the knowing that the trip was what you all needed to cope with the gang breaking up, you still recalled how the boys barely made it to the bus on time. Passing him Steve’s helmet with a nod, Bucky pulled it on without shaking hands or hesitation. “Where are we going?”

“My suitcase is in my car. Can you get off work?” You didn’t need to see his expression to know there was a puppy dog look of optimism on his face.

“I actually already did.” As you mounted your bike and Bucky flipped up the visor and you were surprised to see him looking so surprised. “What?” Clearing your throat and flipping your own visor down he got on and you hollered over the engine. “Steve has your keys, too. I’ll tell him to drive it over to you, you can have your suitcase, he can have his helmet. Now where are we going while we wait on him?”

“Yours, knucklehead. You’ve got a bag to pack.”

It wasn’t all that surprising that Steve couldn’t leave on a whim. His job as an art therapist for veterans wasn’t exactly something he put before a social life. As Bucky pulled luggage from the trunk Steve pulled you to the side, “I’m only letting him go on this trip because you’re going. If anything happens I’ll find a way to get there. I’m sorry I...”

Pressing your fingers to his lips you hushed him. “I may not be a therapist, but you two are my best friends. I’m not going to let him lock himself in a bathroom, throw himself off a gondola, or...”

Steve interrupted you with side-holding laughter, “Oh dear, you might need this more than him you uncultured swine. There are no gondolas in Rome.”

“No gondolas in Rome? Well fuck, we better pick a new place to run off to.” Bucky half-smiled as he leaned his head into the door. “We are still putting my non-refundable honeymoon to good use, aren’t we?”

Punching Steve in the arm, you called back at the blonde, “See ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya!”

Bucky stayed, talking to Steve for more than a couple of minutes while you flipped through work emails and kept your boss in the loop on the telework situation. All the while, only catching the tone of concern in Steve’s voice, not the words. Before you knew it you were on your way, body scans and bag checks, and with Bucky’s eyes averted you flipped through social media to see if it was safe to let him near his own phone. It wasn’t, at least not yet. It wasn’t just that she had changed her Facebook relationship status or that she deleted the countless pictures chronicling their relationship, it was that she had unfriended every person around Bucky that had put up with her for his own happiness. It made you wonder what happened, but more than that, it made you glad to put an ocean between her and your fists.

The non-stop flight was just shy of nine hours, the ride to the hotel in the heart of the city was another thirty, and as you walked up to the counter to check in Bucky, who managed to restlessly nod off on your shoulder, looked like he was about to collapse. “We’re here to check in, the reservation is under James Barnes.” 

It was obvious that they were processing the English, disrupted from their lunch, “Ah, che bravissimo, the American newlyweds! Evviva gli sposi!”

What felt like nine in the morning on no sleep for you was clearly better than Bucky’s experience. So you nodded, thanked them, and passed over the passport and other items clutched in his hand. Once it was all back in your hands with room keys you pulled him along to the elevator and, once again, he surprised you. “Are you okay?”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you took his hand. “Despite what some people think, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being a Mrs. Barnes.” Sticking out your tongue to lighten the mood, you left him in the elevator as you pulled your luggage along, “C’mon Athos!” The childhood nickname seemed to draw him from his thoughts and his long legs quickly caught up to you. “Want me to go in first and chuck any romantic decor?”

“Fuck, I didn’t even think about that.” He swallowed at the cotton in his mouth. “No, it’s fine. Hell, maybe there’s chocolate on the pillows.”

Wiggling your eyebrows you slipped the keycard in and pushed the door open, but just as you were about to say ‘dibs’ you saw the room. Rose petals trailed along the floor and the room had the soft scent of clean cotton and gardenias. Faux candles of an array of heights and sizes flickered on every surface. The bathroom door sat open and the motion sensor light kicked on to brighten up a jacuzzi tub and oversized shower with a bench. The small area to sit in had a door out to the balcony with a postcard worthy view and just as you were about to rush out there you saw the bed- the one massive bed and the welcome basket and flowers in the center of a massive heart of petals. “Cliché, but I think we have the chocolate covered.”

“I’ll take the couch.” He was so quick, so matter of fact about it that it almost threw you for a loop and you nearly agreed.

“We could sleep on this bed with all of this on it and still never brush elbows. Besides, we’ve shared a bed before.”

While all of that was true and you didn’t think much of it as you kicked off your shoes and left your bags by the door, something was twisting in the pit of Bucky’s stomach. The fact was that it had always been you, him, and Steve; even on the impromptu road trip Steve was always there. The boundaries had always been crystal clear and now you both were single, had careers, grown up, and now, after everything, there were secrets. “Are you sure?”

“Yup. Go and shower first, Army boy. If I do there won’t be any hot water left for you.” As soon as he was in the bathroom you pulled out your laptop, checking in with Natasha about the vendors and letting Steve know you had made it safe. With it being so early in the morning you weren’t surprised by the lack of a response and set out to clean up the room, all the while keeping an ear open for Bucky needing you. Just as you were about to check on him, your toiletry bag and a change of clothes tucked under your arm, you shrieked at the door opening in front of you. Your fist instinctively punched straight ahead into his stomach and set him coughing. “Shit! Sorry.” As soon as you put your hand on his damp shoulder you saw the familiar intense scarring that he usually kept hidden under a henley or leather jacket. Your thumb brushed over the remnants of the wound that had discharged him from the military before you took a step back, “Okay Barnes, I didn’t hit you that hard.”

“It’s my ego. You hit me in my ego.” He mocked as he straightened up. “Steve can never know this happened.”

Sticking your tongue out you walked into the bathroom and shut the door, a long slow exhale passing your lips. You hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath and that might have surprised you if it wasn’t for the flushed look on your face in the mirror. It wasn’t blush- or so you swore.

On the other side of the door, Bucky quickly changed and moved around the room setting a few dozen of the candles back on to turn off the harsher light of the bedroom lamps. His eyes stayed on the bathroom door the entire time while his mouth moved from chewing the inside of his cheek to chewing on his bottom lip. Once he’d finally stopped pacing around the room and decided to take a seat the bathroom door opened and you stepped out in leggings and a long t-shirt. Your eyes were on the floor, hair wrapped in a towel so that it didn’t drip onto your clothes. Bucky’s blue eyes stayed glued on the shirt clinging to the damp skin beneath. “I remember when you stole that shirt.”

“Huh?” Looking down you couldn’t help but snort, “Don’t call me out!”

“You always do that,” The corner of his mouth turned up, in a near smile and it was a relief for both of them to feel the tiniest lightening of the mood, a baby-step to normalcy.

“Do what?” Feigning innocence and flopping onto the bed, you reached for a pillow, causing the old shirt to slink up your curves.

“Buy a present that is actually meant for you and, under dubious circumstances at best, you somehow reclaim that gift.” Once the pillow was under your head, Bucky delicately pulled the shirt down and laid down next to you, rolling onto his side.

“I’m pretty sure I had this shirt first and it’s mine, but I knew you liked it so much that I got you the same one for your birthday.” You looked down at his hand, lingering on your stomach, certain it was just that he needed physical comfort, so you placed yours on top.

“Then at Steve’s twenty-first birthday co-Independence Day party you got so trashed you ruined yours. This is my shirt.”

“James Buchanan Barnes! Are you calling me a liar? Are you trying to steal the shirt off of my back?” You laughed so hard the bed shook and just as you settled down, sides aching, his rough fingertips tickled at the bottom of your soft tummy, right at the hem of your leggings and the shirt. “Even if it was yours, and I’m most certainly not saying it is, it’s molded to my thicc-ness now and  it’ll never fit you again, Army Boy!”

“My whole government name, is it?” He smiled, really smiled, that glowing dopey ear to ear smile that was contagious. It had nearly been twenty-four hours since you’d seen him smile and somehow you were all to aware of an ache in your bones of missing his naturally contagious light. But that wasn’t what caught you off guard, it was the fact that this smile hadn’t been seen in years and the realization was something akin to going through withdrawals.

The choked laugh and the smile that found your own lips was hesitant, reserved, and held between your teeth. Against your better judgement you reached over and brushed your thumb through the lines on his face. “Does it hurt smiling like that after you haven’t in years.”

The words were whispered, Bucky’s sad blue eyes looked up from the threads of the comforter he was picking at and locked dead on you. When your lips parted to apologize, he leaned in close and pressed his lips to your forehead. “New chapter, remember?” Though your breath hitched in your throat, he pulled away from you, “I guess we’ll have to get used to it.”

“I could get used to it.” You half-yawned. “If we take a nap we might be able to reset ourself and waste less time jet lagged.”

“Background noise of tv, music, or--”

“City!” You finished with an excited smile, already sliding off the bed to open the balcony’s door and let in the sounds of Rome. You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you and thought little more of it than his own curiosity about what the pair of you were going to miss during your quick snooze. By the time you turned around his eyes were closed and he’d jumbled up all of the blankets and pillows to get comfortable. “Too fluffy?”

“Spend years in the desert and try and sleep with all of that.”

Walking up the massive bed on your hands and knees, your tired body couldn’t be bothered to shove it all over the edge. He watched you attempt at climbing under the blankets, curious about why you weren’t looking up to see where you were going. It left you brushing against Bucky and he pulled you to his chest in one of his classic bear hugs. “Careful or you’ll wish you were back in the desert or did you forget that I’m a human space heater?”

“Nah, you missed my big hugs.” The steady cadence of his pulse was already lulling you to sleep. If that wasn’t enough, he pulled the towel off of your head and ran his fingers through your hair. It was an intoxicating sort of magic, a little trick he’d learned comforting his sisters and maybe when you woke up you’d feel played because you should have been comforting him, but the stars behind your lids drew you to a comfortable sleep.

As the two of you zipped around the city on your matching pistachio colored Vespas, Bucky knew he’d really started a new chapter. He could still perfectly picture the confusion on your face when you shocked him by agreeing to set work aside for a sunset zip to hunt down the best gelato. He couldn’t remember the last time you’d looked at him and not known what he was thinking. It was impossible for him to recall the last time anyone had set work aside to live a little, even with Steve. Though Bucky had chalked it up to ‘growing up’ a larger part of him wondered if you wold have always said yes or if there was a bigger reason you would’ve said no- like his ex. The fact was that the ex never even let you ask. That chapter felt a lot like the words ‘missing you’. This one felt a lot like three.

Somehow in the last two days in Italy, tossing coins in fountains, eating copious amounts of bread at every meal, sipping on proper espresso to counteract jet lag; he hadn’t cried or settled into some desperate need to get over his ex by getting under someone else. Bucky found himself delighting in the little things and he realized it was just because you were. 

Wine tasted better after watching you bring it to you lips with a hum. Its color was the perfect balance of red and purple as it stained your lips. Then, when you slid it across for him to try it was the melodic sound of your laughter and pleading that convinced him to try something new from his staunchly beer and bourbon alcohol repertoire. 

The mere mention of ice cream was no longer summoning the memory of that time Steve started a scrap that he had to end and resulted in you buying the three of them ice creams to cool off in the humid New York summer heat. You’d scolded the both of them so lovingly hard that yours melted entirely over fingers before your first lick. No, it was those fingers now covered in strawberry, sticky-sweet, and the almost inaudible gasp on you lips when Bucky leaned in and licked it off. He swore it was just for a stolen taste, but in the back of his mind he knew it wasn’t.

The laugh that came with the silly gesture, the familiar warmth of it like a hug to him, was more to you. While you swore it because he was being uncharacteristically childish. “I want to say I could get used to this ‘new chapter’ version of you because I love seeing you back to the Bucky that would protect Steve from his own stubbornness and me from my bad... taste, but if you’re going to make me laugh this much all the time... Can a person die of laughter? Is it going to be an oxygen deprivation type of death?” Laughing nervously, glad Steve wasn’t around to read you like a book. The embarrassment truly stemmed from how you loved the feeling of his stubble scratching your skin. Steve would’ve called you on it, that some how, something had just flipped like a switch and you were seeing the history of your friendship in a completely different way. The anxiety was starting to bubble as you question if he did too.

It felt so obvious to you, that the universe was laying the cards out on the table. You both shared silence and sound, space and somehow time- not just time in the sense of being in a new time zone or having shared a lifetime of memories, it was more and as you parked the rental Vespas at the shop and picked up your little bicycles, Bucky pulled you into the biggest hug. You didn’t ask him what it was for or hesitate to hug him back.

The sun was low, the street lamps turned on, and the only barrier between you two were the bikes. Hiding your smile in the curve of Bucky’s neck you could have sworn you heard him groan when you lips brushed the base of his neck at the collar of his t-shirt. “You know where we are?” He asked as he led you around the bike just a little, still holding you until he pulled on your hip to make you look out at the view. A hefty amount of stairs led down deeper into the plaza, flanked by older peach and dusty rose buildings. The architecture was beautiful, but you honestly had been enjoying the company on this trip more than the food and your love of history was always always something you didn’t flaunt. “It’s late and we’ve been dragging each other all over this city since we got here, so I’ll forgive you for not realizing just yet.”

Buzzing with excitement and curiosity he took your hand, lacing his hand in yours and taking you down the stairs a few at a time. “I’ve got little legs!” You laughed, true or not it was always hard to keep up with the soldier’s longer legs. The joke of protest was met with Bucky’s arms scooping you up. You were so tempted to protest, so tempted to tell him that the last thing he needed was to hurt his arm lugging you down some stairs in Rome. Then you saw his smile, the one that reached his eyes and the only thing you could say was, “The stairs! Stop looking at me and look at the stairs, Bucky!”

“I’d never drop you.” He said it so matter of factly and you believed it. “I really want to enjoy this so close your eyes.”

“Demanding.” You chuckled, no longer hiding that you loved it. “Fine... but only since you completely unnecessarily but oh so gallantly walked me down oh so many Roman stairs.”

With a crinkle of your nose you shut your eyes and he set you down  shortly thereafter. You swallowed at the dryness in you mouth when his hands found yours again almost immediately. Bucky’s breath shook in your ear, surely from the effort of lugging you around, you swore, biting into your bottom lip waiting for the cue to open your eyes. But he waited, his hands still holding yours and then enveloping you in a tight hug, his chest pressed to your back, his chin over your shoulder. “Okay, now you can open them.”

You didn’t have to read the placard to know Keat’s home. When Bucky and Steve were away for boot camp you’d written them every day, jokingly telling the boys to not become blockheads and to keep each other safe. While the letters were fairly similar, you knew Steve was already hiding doodles on the envelopes, he had ‘his thing’. So you sent Bucky poetry, Keats being one of your favorites. How you’d forgotten the stairs was beyond you, but you weren’t breathing, your eyes stung with happy tears. This was a bucket list visit and your chin quivered as you recalled the emotions of reading you first poem and the worry about losing the boys forever. You’d made yourself sick worrying Bucky would do something stupid to save Steve.

“Hey, pretty girl, this was supposed to make you smile!” Bucky squeezed you in that hug a little tighter and finally you took a breathe and the few tears dripped down your cheeks. “I thought you loved John Keats.” You could only managed a mildly frantic nod as you tried to collect yourself, a soft smile- one too similar to an apology found your lips. “This is you in celebrity shock?” A nudge to Bucky’s side made him laugh and you let go of his hands so you could spin around and hug him tightly back. “Ahhh there’s the reaction I was hoping for.”

“You never talked about the poems I sent you. I just assumed you didn’t want to tell me I was being lame.” Chewing the inside of your cheek you looked back at the building and then up at his bright blue eyes, which were only on you.

“I loved them. They got me through...” The arm, he didn’t have to say it and you squeezed his side to let him know that. What you hadn’t expected was the quiet man that kept his longer chatting to odd things he’d dug up on science threads on Reddit or political rants to make a confession in the middle of the Piazza di Spagna in words that you both shared years ago:

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art—         Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night And watching, with eternal lids apart,         Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite, The moving waters at their priestlike task         Of pure ablution round earth's human shores, Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask         Of snow upon the mountains and the moors— No—yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,         Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast, To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,         Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever—or else swoon to death.

Was that what did it? Was that the moment you fell head over heals for Bucky Barnes? It felt irrelevant to label the ‘something happened’ moment when, under the stars and in the summer heat you pulled his mouth to yours and kissed him fearlessly. His hands pulled the two of you somehow ever closer and the only compromise to the separation of your soft lips to his was the gasp for air. The dopey smile on his face as he cupped your face gave you the opportunity to use your words. “I’m in love with you, too.”

Bucky’s fingers pressed gently into your soft skin and he pulled your mouth back to his. He didn’t ask when you knew, you didn’t ask him either, and it didn’t matter. His tongue caressed yours and you moaned into his mouth, your fingers tugging on his cloths, his hair, every inch of you pressing into him until you both were breathless messes again. “I’ll bring you back.”

“Promise?” You didn’t know if he meant to Italy or the Keats-Shelley Museum, but you were too distracted by his blown out pupils and how beautiful his lips looked wet and swollen from kissing you. The thought of that action alone was still dizzying.

“Yeah, I promise, but I have one more surprise.” As your eyebrows drew together in confusion his hands pulled away from your face, where they had been resting gently on your neck, brushing your jaw, leaving a sting of heat in their wake. He took your hands in his and he got down on one knee. Your mouth fell open and you picked it up quickly, but your head lulled to the side like a confused puppy as your heart raced so loudly in your chest that you were certain Bucky would feel the vibrations in your fingertips. “Will you marry me? Steve always knew I wanted this. He swore up and down that if I just took five minutes to think about what you meant to me romantically that I would realize every single person I’d been with never compared to the girl who climbed in my sandbox. I wouldn’t have been left at the alter if I would have realized the only person I wanted at my side was the person I wanted at my side in sickness and in health, good times and bad, was always already there. Yes, you and Steve are my best friends, but I should have realized sooner why there were differences between my friendships with the two of you.”

“Everyone saw it but the two of us.” You looked down at Bucky, his hands may not have held a ring, but it was perfect and it was very much the two of you in your own world. “I guess I need to call Steve to come to Rome after all.”

As if he was reading your mind, he knew what you meant, you weren’t leaving this city without marrying him. Pulling out your phone, you tapped the little phone icon and in one swoop Bucky was picking you up and spinning you around, his lips kissing every inch of skin they could find and you laughed breathlessly. Steve answered on the second ring but the pair of you laughing muffled his greeting. You pulled the phone from your face and saw the minutes counting and you hushed Bucky with a smile and gentle little thwack to his peck. “So he told you?” Steve asked, tone anxious.

“Told me what?” Your eyebrows drew together and Bucky set you down, leaning in to listen to the call.

“He told you she called it off because he wanted to marry you.” Bucky swallowed, knowing that Steve was leaving out the key detail that after somehow getting his confiscated phone back he had drunk texted the Bride-not-to-be and told her as much the night before the wedding. “Is it finally happening?”

“Yeah,” You both said in unison, smiling despite the circumstances.

“Well, only if you can get out here. Someone has to give me away and seeing as how he won’t stand there without you and I won’t marry him without your blessing, it’s a bit of a co-dependent situation.” Bucky muffled his laugh, squeezing your hand before kissing your temple. “What do you say, Aramis?”

Steve let out a long sigh, but you could hear his keys jingling like he was already headed for his car. “Far be it from me to delay the inevitable. I’m surprised you two didn’t take care of this before we enlisted. Y’now, speaking of the three musketeers, does the impulsivity of this make him a D’Artagnan?”

Bucky let out a whistle and jokingly pumped his arm in victorious celebration. “You’ve done it now, Steve. Straight to his head.”

“I have to torture you a little for making me live through a couple of decades of angst and oblivion.”

You could practically hear the approving smile, “See you soon, stupid.”

Unceremoniously ending the call, you leapt into Bucky’s arms and picked up kissing him, drizzling in a lifetime’s worth of unsaid I love yous. Through laughing and smiling, fingers tangled in hair and soft curves pressed to the cold stone wall of the museum, you drank in Rome and Bucky. Each kiss was a vow to no longer letting a moment pass you two by.

All Tags: @tom-hlover​​

Bucky Tags: @caplanbuckybarnes​​

[twelvedy7]

Twisted - One shot

warning: sensitive topics (drugs). 

I just wanted to write something a bit different. It might be a bit OCC but I thought it might be a great fit for the manga universe.   This story won’t be published anywhere else than tumblr so feel free to save the story if you like it.

Oh and also english isn’t really my native language so sorry if there are incoherences. 

Takano had no sense of self-control. From a very young age he has been a witness of the sheer harshness of his mother and the complete indifference of his father towards their family. Despite how much he tried to convince himself of his difference he inherited from most of their flaws, which filled him with anger every time he thought about it. 

No wonder that whenever he met someone bright, kind, generous and appreciated he became more aware of his whole dark gloomy personality. That was the case with Ritsu he was still viewing today as the 16 year-old teen he used to be a decade ago.

No wonder that when he met this bright, kind and generous highschool kid he had become more aware of his dark gloomy personality. He was still viewing Ritsu as the 16 year-old teen he used to be a decade ago and yet he couldn’t understand for the life of him the reason why such a lovable person would waste their time with him rather than finding another likeable person that would be such a better companion than him.

If all the open rejections from the brunette could make him believe he hated him, he was at least smart enough to read between the lines and see what the other tried so hard to conceal under feigned anger and flustered reactions. 

What seemed to be like a bitter-sweet genuine love story from two ignorant teenagers who lost each other from a foolish misunderstanding was driving him straight into madness. Ritsu was constantly on his mind, invading his thoughts at any time of the day, reminding him of the terrible person he was and how he will never be nowhere near enough for him. Even in the poorly credible reality where the younger one would actually build up the courage to admit his feelings, he knew that their relationship was sealed to failure. 

One day Ritsu would mature and realise how incompatible they were and how idealistic they’ve been this whole time before leaving him to find another person that could offer him the support and love he needed. Maybe one day Ritsu would find the man of his dreams, different from senpai in every way, to finally live the blissful life he aspired to. That’s what broke his heart the most: they were not made for each other. No matter how hard he tried, it will never be enough because they were simply not meant to. 

He imagined Ritsu’s soulmate to be fun, social, caring, communicative and considerate which would make him forget all the turmoil he went through for all this time. His parents might be so enchanted by their personality that the fact they weren’t An-Chan wouldn’t even bother them.

The truth is he was physically and emotionally drained. He couldn’t feel a thing if it wasn’t his love for Ritsu and sometimes he felt as if that was his last tie with sanity. There were times where he would shut down his emotions. When it became too difficult to confront their inevitable fate, he would put himself in a semi-automatic mode working up to 15 hours straight without paying attention to anything or anyone, only accomplishing what he ought to.

Over time, he came to accept that he wasn’t able to love anyone without causing them a great deal of pain and suffering. That’s why he decided to distance himself from the few people who actually cared about him in his life and managed to bring him some split meaningful moments of happiness. It was like a lightning bolt shaking him from side to side, making him surrender to the hope of one day being able to spend the rest of his life with Ritsu and recovering from his long-lost friendship with Yokozawa. He hurt them both and didn’t deserve to be part of their lives. 

His phone vibrated. He broke off his thoughts to center his attention on the alias displaying on the screen: “Taisho” along with a message “I’m here.”

He stood up from the floor, came up to the entrance of his apartment and opened the door. A man of average-height in his mid-thirties was waiting for him. At first glance, he gave the impression of being a regular salary-man coming back home to his family after a long day of hard work. However, he came to discover that the man likely had a long history of debt behind him involving matters such as a costly divorce and low paychecks.

Not bothering to greet him, he pulled out 6,000 yen from his pocket and handed it to the fearful looking man who replaced the notes with a small transparent plastic bag containing a white powder. 

“Same thing next week?” asked the anxious black-haired man, his light blue eyes too faithful to be a dealer squeezing behind his oval glasses. 

“Yeah. See you.” 

Without giving him a second glance, he double-locked the door and came back to his dimly lit living room that felt so lonely without Ritsu here. It would take some time, if not forever, to prevent this heavy load in his heart from manifesting every time he would find himself alone without the prospect of his first love joining him any time soon. 

It still pained him… Nao came unannounced in the office earlier in the morning and asked Ritsu out for something that too likely looked like a date. A walk in the city center, a restaurant, and a nighttime exposure. That bastard. 

The rare times he had managed to take Ritsu out for a date was by forcefully dragging him out of his apartment or bluntly lying by message playing the card of ‘emergency’. He remembered the dull ache he felt in the morning as he realised how easy it was for his “best-friend” to take him out to a full outing while he had to prepare a strategy days ahead just to drink a coffee together. 

Opening the tiny bag in his hands, he chased away his dark thoughts and kneeled in front of his coffee table, pouring half of the powder out on its surface and realigned it in two fine lines with the help of an old credit card. He usually didn’t take such high doses in one shot, but tonight he knew that he needed it. The accumulated pain and overthinking were taking a toll on him. Rolling a paper, he brought it to his right nostril and sniffed the first line, ignoring the burning pain in his cavity before passing it to his left one and repeated the action.

A few seconds later he started feeling the tiny molecules flowing through his blood system, noticing the faster pace of his heart beat and the gradual relaxation of his muscles as the drug invaded his mind.

He closed his eyes. 

As always, the thrill was exquisite. The far away sounds of ambient city noises echoed and at some point the only thing he could decipher in the absolute silence was his own breath. His body was soft and any psychological pain he felt instantly disappeared. It was as if someone had covered him with a warm fluffy blanket while stroking his hair with a gentle grasp, providing him an endless feeling of comfort and security he so desperately needed. 

At that moment, everything stopped and all his troubles went away. Nothing mattered anymore. He was back being a young child pampered by a protective mother he never had with an unconditional sense of love. Pleasurable sensations coursed through his body from head to toes until his spirit went numb and he lost any notion of space and time. 

He reached that moment of nothingness that he wished could last forever.

___ 

“Takano-san!” 

...

“Takano-san!” 

Who was it? 

The voice seemed so far away he wasn’t even sure it was real.

“Masamune!” Why would someone try to break the silent darkness that was surrounding him?

For what seemed like hours, he felt himself trapped in-between the process of gaining and losing consciousness. He didn’t want to be drawn from his deep slumber yet.

He recognized some familiar voices in the background but it was hard to put a name on them as they seemed to continuously echo. 

It took him several more minutes to realise that people were present and it shook him. He became hyper aware of his environment.

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was a bunch of white blouses around him scampering around the room at a feverish speed. 

His mind whirled. The world seemed to be going so fast but his brain was so slow. 

His golden eyes blinked several times to adjust to the brightness of the room. In an instant he was blinded by the artificial light of the leds on the ceiling. 

In the chaos of all the fast-paced strangers around him, he felt a delicate hand fondling with the hair on the short back of his neck and let out a soft tired moan escape his lips. 

“Takano-san can you hear me?!” 

He groggily stretched out his limbs while burying his head on the petite body frame behind him and looked up to see who was the kind stranger offering him such soft intentions. 

Above him were two wide teary green eyes displaying a worried expression. Despite his blurry vision, he could recognize the refined and familiar traits of the man he loved. It looked surreal, having the both of them like this sharing such intimacy in a restless atmosphere.

Next to him was standing Yokozawa in his usual professional attire. He could only watch them through half-closed eyes all the while trying to figure out what they were doing in his apartment in the first place.

“He’s stable now. Overdoses happen regularly when cocaine and other powerful stimulants are added to the equation. That’s what producers do nowadays to boost the effects”. Said a firm feminine voice. He could see the lady in white gesturing around to her colleagues and immediately realised what just happened. She was staring at him, probably trying to jauge how awake her patient was. 

“You were lucky Takano-san. This could have been much more serious.” 

He saw his friend sitting next to Ritsu, his usual severe expression ruptured by the deep crease in his eyebrows. 

“How did you find me?” asked the raven, his voice so weak he wasn’t sure the two others heard him. 

The brunette brought his face closer to his ear, petting his forehead as he replied in a shaky shy voice: “Yokozawa-san found you like this…” he heard a sneeze. “The front door was unlocked and your phone was ringing without you answering it. You… You stopped breathing.” 

He felt absolutely miserable. 

Trying to shift his position to have a better view of his comrades, he caught the look of utter disappointment and guilt from his older friend. He probably thought that he was long done with this dark hazardous period of his life. 

“I’m… I’m sorry... I didn’t want to…” 

His battle to stay awake was getting harder and harder. 

“It’s okay Masamune. Just rest for now.”

The nurse took a hold of his wrist and stuck the intravenous line with a patch. 

“We’re going to transfer you to the clinic as you need to take several tests. You’re safe now but your body needs to recover.” 

The hand that was playing with his hair resumed and he let his head fall back on his lap. This combined with the liquid in his body led him to a sleep without dreams.

___

When he woke up again, he found himself buried under the sheets of a hospital bed. It took him some time to become accustomed to the artificial lighting of the room. Gathering enough energy to finally keep his eyes open, he gazed at the clock at his right indicating 4:55AM.

The first thing he felt was an atrocious headache that hit him with a massive chest pain undertaking his whole body. He noticed the numerous wires connected to his skin accompanied with the steady regular bips of a machine.

He heard a light snore on his right. Shifting his head, he immediately saw the small fragile figure crawling up into a ball on the couch. A cheap blanket was covering him from toes to his neck. This sight made him feel so terribly selfish. As seconds went by he started getting back to a normal state of awareness despite a fizzy pang at the back of his skull. 

With as much strength as he could gather he sprawled a hand towards him and rested it on the others’ laps. He stroked his thigh lightly with the help of his thumb and stared at his seemingly exhausted resting face. He felt so worthless. He knew he had hurt him badly in the past already and the only thing he could think of is that this was too much.

“I’m so sorry Ritsu…”. 

After reuniting with his first love following the 10 years they had spent apart from one another he had started to believe in fate. Yet he had been too trustful, using it as a justification for every one of his impatient and inappropriate moves towards the younger one. Everything became painfully obvious. This whole thing they had was destructive and that was mainly his fault. It was time to finally respect the distance that Ritsu wanted and deserved. He could not go back to these college years pretending that nobody cared about him. 

Now Ritsu would need him. 

Still, they were nowhere near close from getting into a relationship. Too many mistakes had been made. It was crucial for both men to work on themselves first as jumping the steps one more time would only bring them unhappiness.

That day Takano swore he would stop pursuing Ritsu. He’s forever been broken and finally accepting to get help was a start towards a less twisted life.

“It’s okay Ritsu.” 

One day they would be okay. They would get the life they both secretly wanted. 

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Nine | Dating Tense! (Part 2 of 3)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

Though your sense of amiability and acumen have warped themselves since last weekend, you feel some of that patience and kindness return when Toriel greets you into her new home, the scent of food and her smile soothing whatever anger you had prior to ringing her doorbell.

Sans gestures for you to go ahead first despite him being the most familiar with her and the most affected by the rain, but you persist in your manners and tell him to go change out of his clothes first and foremost. Though they're now dry from how long it's been since he got rained on, it's still evident and necessary for him to change out of them with how tired and disheveled he looks, wrinkled up clothes, slouched posture, and a tired gaze combining to make him look sleep-deprived. “I have a change of clothes in my car,” you say, offering him an abashed smile. “It’s a work uniform and probably a little too big for you, but…” You trail off and feel your face turn warm; remembering all his failed attempts at flirting with you doesn’t help with your situation. “You can still use them, if you want to.”

“It’s cool.” He keeps a neutral expression despite noticing how reluctant you'd acted with him just now, levels different from how you were with him back in your car. “I’m here pretty often, so I’ve gotta change of clothes or two stocked up. And I also gotta go pick up Papyrus first, so I’ll just freshen up after I’m done with that." 

"You should still shower and change first." You frown at the thought of him driving out in the rain again, without rest or care over himself. "It doesn't matter if you dried off or not! You'll get sick if you don't take care of yourself first." You give him your car keys, your umbrella, and take off the suit of your uniform, giving him all three items as you add, “Ditch the jacket and wear this once you’re done freshening up.”

“Thanks,” he says after a while, voice quiet and gaze barely capable of looking straight at you without faltering. “But the keys ain’t really necessary. I can use my-”

“I insist.” You push the keys further into his hand, making him hold yours for just a second before you pull away. “Now go.”

• • •

The first thing Toriel gives you after Sans drives off in your car is a big hug and a firm hold on your shoulders, eyes facing yours with concern. "How… How are you feeling?" she asks, smile changing for a faint frown as she lets go and gestures for you to pass through. Your persistence on not doing that until you were sure Sans followed your suggestions had led to some small talk between you and her while you waited, but only talking about everyday matters and without being nowhere near as personal as she’s being with you right now, whatever concerns she’d been having since your hospitalization showing up now. "Lunch is ready, if you would like to eat now!"

How considerate she's being makes you regret the thought of bringing up the topic you discussed with Sans regarding her once wanting to adopt Frisk. You don't want to point fingers nor hurry into it yet, but there's something about her telling you she'd just finished picking Frisk early due to the stormy weather and that they’re currently sleeping at a bedroom made especially for them that makes jealousy spike within you. The thought of her being a better parent than you makes your stomach queasy and weakens your once tolerant mindset along with the strength of the promise you made of hearing the monsters' perspective before making any rash or abrupt decisions.

"There's no rush," you reply, smiling at her. "I can wait. I'm feeling okay, and I think it would be better if we all ate together instead.” 

You enter her home, welcomed by a near replica of her old one at the Ruins -- a great contrast from her former, minimalist apartment. Her new place is just as big as the one at the Underground, and with a similar colour scheme of mostly beiges and yellows, too. The only difference is the layout and furniture of the living room, decorated with two large couches and a small television, but even then the compact kitchen and the hallway leading off to more rooms seem similar to her old home. 

You sit down with her and toy with the sleeve of your shirt as you try to bring yourself to say something before engaging in any other, friendlier conversation with her -- beyond your small talk about how she and Frisk were doing while you were busy with work. "Would it be…" You hesitate; fear over being tactless makes you bite back your tongue. "Would it be alright with you to talk about something, well… kind of personal?” you ask, meeting her eyes. “The tour last weekend left me with some doubts, so I'd like to clear them out, if possible."

She looks at you with furrowed brows and a small smile, as if you’ve asked her something obvious. “Of course it’s fine, (L/N),” she replies, shifting closer to you as she lays a hand over yours, hers fluffy and much warmer in comparison to a human’s. “What is it? Is it about what-”

Your talk is postponed before it can even begin properly, whatever she was about to ask you held back as you both move your attention to the new and old faces that enter the living room.

Papyrus is here, along with Sans, who -- clearly telling the truth about how weak his magic was when unprovoked -- now looks as exhausted as you often felt after a long shift at work. Even so, he doesn’t let that stop him from walking to your side and giving you your keys and suit jacket back. “Thanks for lendin’ me your car, pal,” he says, almost wobbling when he takes a step back. “Have you talked that stuff out with Tori yet?”

“Not yet,” you say, smile fading and forehead scrunching up when you get a better look at how different he seems compared to barely a while ago. “But should you really be worrying about that right now? You look exhausted!” You frown when you notice he looks twice -- if not, thrice -- as worse as he did when leaving to go find Papyrus. The time on your phone states it hasn’t even been thirty minutes since he drove off, so you wonder if he’d used any additional magic to make his trip shorter along the way.

“I’ll be fine. Just needa sleep a lil’ and I’ll be good as-”

Cards reversed, it’s now your turn to catch him when he stumbles again.

Before he can even say something in objection to your actions, you carry him off to the couch across from the one you and Toriel were sitting on and lay him there. “Rest for a bit.” You press the back of your hand against his cheekbone and check his temperature, felt considerably low compared to how warm he was on the few occasions when you hugged each other. “A shower and a change of clothes won’t do you any good if you don’t rest.”

"Didn't think I'd be gettin' my own, personal doctor today," he comments, returning to his brazen self despite how tired his voice sounds.

"Now's not the time for that, bonehead." You glare at him and press him back down when he tries to sit up. "Sleep, or I'll knock you unconscious myself."

Thankfully, he doesn't push further and does as told, falling asleep in the blink of an eye.

• • •

Try as you might, it becomes impossible for the good mood left behind since arriving at Toriel's place to stay intact.

Having nothing left to do but wash dishes and later wait for the rain to clear up made you gather the needed courage to ask her over that particular subject, yet you’re pretty sure you came off as rash at one point in beginning with the conversation. “Why did you want to adopt Frisk without knowing if they had fallen intentionally or not? And why didn’t you ask them if they had a family waiting for them before they went on a journey and broke the Barrier?” were reasonable and simple enough questions, though there was much left to be said about your tone and you adding, “Do you know how… how awful it felt when I was told you wanted to take them as your child, at one point?”

Three hours.

Only three hours into arriving at her new home, and yet your relationship with her was already becoming about as tense as Sans’s after your nearly ten hour long tour.

"I did not intend to take Frisk away from you, and I would have never asked them that, had I known they were missing you just as much as you were," the goat lady says, a smile showing through, though made pained by the furrow in her brow and teary eyes. "But I would still like to keep seeing them, if you allow me to." She breathes in. "And now that you require a babysitter, I can and would gladly continue to look after them while you work. They are very dear to me, and I cannot bear to never see them again." She breathes sharply again, holding back her gloom through those means. "I understand you may not trust us, but please do get to know us before you make your judgment, and perhaps then you will… understand we only want what's best for you and your child."

Calm down.

That’s a phrase you continue to repeat to yourself before opening your mouth again.

Nonetheless, you fail in doing that and come back at her with, "And couldn't you think like that back when your kind decided to attack them -- wanting what's best instead of letting them go alone, just like that?" You cross your arms tight and dismiss any thoughts about your missed meeting once more, too caught up with the current situation to give mind to your job. "I was told many of your kind attacked Frisk for little to no reason. And then I decided to ask about what that sentry job implied, and I find out Sans was actually meant to kill any human who crossed him?" You try not to let your voice grow loud, yet thoughts over losing Frisk and the desperation you went through searching for them all around the map make you livid. You're tearing up yourself, yet you prove unable to compose yourself like Toriel does, letting these stain your cheeks. "You expect me to trust a guy like him, when all that kept him from killing my child was Karma and a… a supposed promise he made to someone else? Do you expect me to trust him when- when he could've done the same to me, or anyone else of my kind? How can you expect me to stay calm, when your kind acted badly in their own way?"

You're full-on crying now, pent-up worries of the days you spent on a relentless, fruitless search over Frisk almost making you wobble to the ground; your wit and sheer want to be strong are what prevent you from showing it. You cover your face with your hands while guilt and doubts enter your mind. Your knees are frail, though some of that stress is let out through a heavy huff, and your hands let go when you compose yourself more. "I thought Frisk hated me, a- and that's why they ran off." You feel a hand place itself right on top of your head, careful yet attempting to soothe you further. "I thought I'd done something wrong, or that I… That I failed as a parent. But then…” You shudder the next time you breathe out. “Then Brenda calls me and says something important happened. And- And next thing I know, Frisk shows up in the news!"

While the current hand is fluffy, the next one causes you to jolt back up into guard. Its bony feel on your shoulder makes you shake it off and face the one responsible with cold, narrowed eyes. 

When you see it's Papyrus, you hold back and face him with gentler eyes, a frown replacing your anger. "I'm thankful for what you all did to look after Frisk while I wasn't around, but I still can't… I really still can't overlook what Asgore wanted to do to my kind, or what he ordered Sans and... and other monsters to do." You breathe in, chest heaving and shuddering again when letting that same breath out. “H- Hate me if you will, but I... I need time to understand the reasons behind all of this."

Too weak to stand any longer, Papyrus takes note of that himself and helps you off to the couch, where Sans still rests at. His usage of what little magic he had left in him shows through how slumped his sitting posture is and how his eye sockets are half-lidded as he tries not to fall asleep. He straightens and scoots away, leaving you with more than plenty of space for you to sit down beside him.

"(L/N)," the taller one says, keeping a hand on your shoulder and bringing you to stare at him. "We do not hate you. What we want is for you to hear us out and understand we mean no harm any longer." He pulls back, gaze knitted as sympathy shows on his smile. "I was once meant to capture any human who crossed on over to Snowdin, and as you said, Sans was meant to… to end them." He stops, smile fading. "So your worry and panic are understandable. I do not expect you to forgive and forget, but I do ask you to please listen to what we have to say and try to understand the rather… complicated relationship humans and monsters used to have."

It’s been more than an hour since your meeting ended, yet the rain's still pouring strong and the news station left to play on the television is already reporting over nearby routes being flooded by what now has to be a tropical storm. Frisk is still sleeping in the goat lady's bedroom, helping make the situation a bit easier for you to manage with. Though -- at the thought of being stuck with the monsters for what you assume is going to be a long, long while -- you sigh, trying to regain both strength and calm alike. 

"Been rainin' a lot since we left the Underground," Sans comments, a tired slur to his words. He's changed the topic completely, helping you with the process. "Think this's really connected to us? A lotta people've been blamin' monsters for it."

"I think it's silly they'd blame you for it," you reply, finding more ease in the topic. "There was a heavy drought not long before Frisk fell to the Underground, so I think it was to expect we'd have even heavier rains soon." Surprisingly, he offers you a napkin, avoiding the touch of hands by pulling away as quickly as his magic-worn state allows him to. "Thank you." You pat at your tears and wipe your face clean, stopping when you hear muffled laughter coming from him.

"...What?" you ask, facing the skeleton with a raised brow.

That only makes him break down more, though he contains himself to reply with, "Nothin'."

You hear Papyrus huff and see him stand next to you. He offers a mirror out to you, something you reject when you tell him you have one with you. "Sans, now's not the time for this!" he exclaims, hands on his hips. "You'll never gain (L/N)’s trust if you continue to disrupt every single opportunity you have for it!"

While listening to their argument, you see Toriel's sadness vanish right on par with yours. You look at yourself in the mirror, holding back a laugh of your own when you see two large circles surrounding your eyes, with a colour blatantly opposite to the (s/t) shade(s) of your skin. It makes you look similar to a panda, though you try not to appear humoured by it. 

"Frisk fell for that at the Underground," Sans comments, snickering when his brother finally stops scolding him. "And now you." His grin widens, posture straightening more and tiredness being replaced with merriment. "I've said it once and I'll say it again: like parent, like child." 

Whatever form of retaliation you're about to direct at Sans is stopped when you see the door of the living room slam open, in entering two women, and both soaked from head to toe. Alphys is the first one you recognize at a quick glance while the taller one takes you longer to distinguish with how little you knew about her still. Neither of the two seem bothered over being drenched, Undyne being the one who grins and sighs in relief, later commenting about how refreshing the rain feels. Alphys takes in the feeling for some time, though she removes her lab coat and shoes, wringing herself out before stepping into the living room. When the other woman's done, her eye falls on you, immediately growing as her smile does the same, sharp teeth baring themselves in excitement.

"Is that the one you told me about, Alph?" she asks, voice booming throughout the house. "You're right. They're just like Frisk described them to us, and just as cute as those pictures on the news!"

You hear Sans hiss out an 'ooh', and hear him speak right after with a muttered, "Bad move, Undyne."

He's not wrong.

Having experienced more than enough of Sans's flirting for the past few days, hearing yet another monster comment over you in a flattering manner is unwelcomed. Consequently, you stand up and face the two with your trademark pose: frowning, brow narrowed, and with your arms firmly crossed. "Nice to meet you, miss Undyne." You spare a look at Alphys, who jolts at the intensity of your stare. "My name is (Y/N) (L/N), Frisk's primary care parent. Though I'm sure you know that already." You offer a hand out to her, reminding yourself to be polite. "I believe I have questions as to why you thought it acceptable to chase my child at the Underground, even when they were deemed to have caused no harm to your kind."

She takes your hand, and a more serious look takes her over when she nods. "I'm afraid that was a job assigned to me for being part of the Royal Guard, (miss/mister) (L/N)."

You shake her hand, nodding back. "And I'm afraid you'll have to explain that to me then, miss Undyne.” You take a pause. “Apologies for being so quick about this, but I… I want nothing but the best for Frisk, and so I still have to get to know their monster friends better to understand what this is all about." 

When the handshake's over, you both take a step back, facing each other with stern gazes. "In the end, I believe it's my right as a parent to decide whether or not it's safe for Frisk to keep being friends with you." You pause, reflect, and make sure to add your next comment, wanting to be clear with everyone around you, "And not because of your race, but because of your actions."

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

Tag List (Comment or message me if you want to be added to [or removed from] it!)

@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

@disastrous-l0vebug

@therealchickenjoe

@mintyflakes025

@pandaquick

[space-helen]

Morning Cuppa

Words: 1077

Pairing: Scotty x Reader

A/N: Ok I think this is INCREDIBLY cute and I loved writing it. Also there’s the use of the term Lass so the reader is female or female presenting :)

Request: I haven't seen some Scotty x reader in a while. Could I possibly get like a cute one where the reader makes Scotty his morning tea everyday but he doesn't know it's her until he finds out it's her. idk, something really cute and fluffy, anything would really do. You're such a great writer, so I'll leave it up to your imagination! - @morganofthecoves1

___________________

Scotty couldn’t remember the day it started but it was cemented into his routine. Every morning, without fail, there’d be a hot cup of tea on his desk.

It would always be there as he started his shift for the day. The man sometimes went to work early and the cup would still be there for 8:30 am on the dot without a person in sight. He’d always pick the mug up and take a sip to check the temperature, the warmth of the liquid biting at his throat and mouth. It was always too hot to drink straight away which meant he knew it was fresh. 

You’d been Scotty’s ‘right hand man’ since he was appointed head of Engineering. He’d expressed his love for a ‘morning cuppa’ early on and you’d soon adopted the habit of making him one every morning and having it on his desk ready for his shift knowing that the man didn’t usually have time to make one in the morning before coming down to Engineering.

Most mornings the two of you would either sit in his office or walk around the ship inspecting areas while he nursed his tea. 

Your morning ritual of making him tea even kept up during the most stressful times on the ship. Luckily your shifts always matched up and you always had the same days off which meant you hadn’t missed a day since you started. 

Recently the two of you had been working long hours trying to do maintenance on the warp core. The work was slow and time consuming and it didn’t help that other items on the ship were breaking every thirty seconds which meant either you or Scotty would be pulled away to repair or consult about something else. 

You’d been pulling overtime for nearing a week now, both you and Scotty were exhausted.

“Lass can you pass me that?”

You stayed silent as you passed the man the item he’d requested.

“Hold it in place for me?” You did as he said while he re-attached the panel. “I think we’re all done.”

You let out a breath “Thank God.”

“Glad to be rid of me are you?” The man joked as he picked up his toolbag.

“Don’t be stupid. I’m just tired” you laughed as you followed the man to his office. 

Arriving in his office Scotty dumped his bag on a workbench before sitting ibehind his desk. You dropped your stuff next to his. “Y/N catch.” 

Quickly turning you caught the object Scotty had tossed towards you turned the stress ball over in your hands. “Really, Scotty?” you laughed as you threw it playfully back at him.

“I was just testing your reflexes. For someone as dead on your feet as you say you are you’re still pretty alert.” 

You laughed “Well yeah I kinda have to be. Especially when my superior officer has a habit of throwing things at me.”

“Aye, you have a point. Now, get yourself off to bed.” You moved around his desk and spun histo chair to the side before gently pushing him out. “Why’d you do that?”

“Because I know unless I make you leave now you’re not going to.” 

“You got me” he said, holding his hands up. The two of you walked away from engineering and into the turbo lift, both getting off at different levels to get to your quarters. 

Your bed had never been so welcoming. It screamed your name as soon as you walked through the door, you changed as quickly as you could before flopping into bed. Your head sunk into the pillow and sleep soon took over. 

Scotty trailed down the corridor towards his office. He’d slept well but was still tired. “Mr Scott there’s some replicators that need repairing in the mess hall I said I’d pass the message onto you.” he didn’t even register who it was but agreed. Walking into his office he quickly picked up his toolbag before going to the mess hall.

He felt like he was missing an arm while he repaired the replicators but he couldn’t register why. The job had only taken ten minutes and he was soon on his way back to his office but he still felt off.

Moving into his office he dumped his toolbag down and sat back in his chair. He went to grab the mug of tea when he noticed it wasn’t there, then it all clicked. He felt like he was missing an arm because you weren’t there. He’d gotten so used to your presence and working with you and laughing and joking while you did that it felt wrong without you. He also realised that you were the one that must have been making him tea every morning because you were nowhere to be seen and the tea wasn’t there either. But where were you?

The sound of your communicator woke you up. You sat up quickly and scrambled for the device and flipped it open “Y/L/N” you sleepily said.

“Y/N where are you?” 

You rubbed at your eyes “I just woke up.” you realised the time and stood up quickly “I’m late. I’m so sorry I’ll be down now Scotty.”

“Don’t worry about L-” before he could finish his sentence you closed your communicator and hurriedly got dressed. Pulling on your uniform you shoved your feet inside your boots and practically ran down the corridors. 

You pressed the panel to let you into Scotty’s office and apologised as you entered. “Scotty I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok you’re allowed to be half an hour late when you’ve done so much overtime. Just don’t make a habit out of it.” he teased. He gestured for you to sit across from him while he held a mug of tea in his hand and took a sip.

Sitting down you noticed a second cup on the desk closer to your side. “Is this for me?”

He nodded “I was so dull not to realise you were the one making tea for me every morning. Thank you for that.”

“I know how you can’t function without your morning tea.” you laughed.

“Not just that. I was lost without you this morning. I had to fix the replicators in the mess hall and it felt wrong not having you there to work with.”

“I guess we spend too much time together.” 

He laughed “and I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

Tag List: (open)

Scotty: @sophiasescape

All Star Trek AOS and Disco: @spaskaalekha @wallows-spring​

All Star Trek: @morganofthecoves1 @sophiasescape @livenerdyandprosper @allthetrek @deeppandanerdbatty

[bauslut]

as you are | vi.

pairing: aaron hotchner x oc 

word count: 5.810k

warnings: mentions of murder, mentions of sexual assault, nudity, oral (receiving), filthy talk, use of pet names, sir kink, slight dom/sub, age gap, cursing, angst, lots and lots of angst, mentions of infant death, allusions to sex, cock warming, crying, marking, nsfw

a/n: this is the sixth chapter of my hotch fic! first off, i want to thank @sapphicstars​ for being my go-to for all my hotch rambles, for being my best friend, & for beta reading the past few chapters! thank you for being such a dear friend, i love you <3 let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the taglist! i hope you guys enjoy, as i’m super proud of this! :’) 

| iv. | v.| 

a drizzle drummed against the window, the sheer cream curtains drawn, rays of light from the lamp casting a warm golden glow all around, illuminating nearly everything. the only sound was the patter of the drops as they collided with the windowpane, and the occasional shuffle of papers, the heating unit only nothing but white noise, drowned out by the rain. 

rowan rivers sat on the edge of the bed, fiddling with a loose thread on the patterned comforter, “so, do you want to shower first or would you like me to go?”

“you should go,” the rustle of paper followed his sentence, “you’re the one who’s wearing damp clothes. honestly, i’m not sure why you haven’t showered yet and changed into dry clothes.”

“and what are we going to do about the bed?”

“i’ll just sleep on the floor,” a weary sigh reverberated off the thin walls, “nothing that i haven’t done before.”

“aaron,” rowan rolled her eyes, slipping off the mattress, “do you realize that us sleeping in the same bed is nothing out of the ordinary?”

the unit chief was adjacent to the agent, his knees bent, acting as a prop for the file of the unsub. a notebook lied directly next to his thigh, open, a few notes scribbled into the margins. his coat was hung in the closet, suit jacket slung across a faux leather chair, nothing but his dress shirt and tie covering his top half, the tie loosened so that it wasn’t so tight around his neck. 

aaron’s lips pursed, brow arching, “you don’t recall a single memory from that night, yet that’s the only thing you remember?”

“there’s a lot that’s coming back to me,” rowan shrugged, padding over to her bag, “well since you’re not protesting, i’m about to go use all of the hot water.”

“go ahead,” a chuckle flowed from his lips, light and airy, “i don’t mind a cold shower sometimes.”

“you’re ridiculous,” rowan snorted, “although i’m not shocked that you like cold showers.”

“i’m nowhere near as ridiculous as david rossi,” aaron brought a bottle of water to his mouth, taking a slip, “you realize this was intentional, right?”

“i wasn’t born yesterday,” her voice crescendoed as she entered the bathroom, rising again as she spoke, “if you need me, i’ll be in here.”

aaron mumbled an incoherent strand of words under his breath, cursing david rossi. not only did he have a case to investigate, he also had six members of his team badgering him about a coworker. 

sure, the taunting on the jet was enough to handle. he could fire back, shooting down their teasing remarks with ease, able to maintain his cool, calm, composure. he was in control of the situation, shutting them up in a matter of minutes. nothing that he hadn’t encountered before. 

however, this was a stark contrast. 

aaron was in shambles, his skin flushed, neck painted with pink splotches as he gnawed on his lower lip. her mere presence was enough to have him crumpling to his knees, completely and utterly allured by her beauty. gravitating towards her voice whenever those plush lips parted, hanging onto every word. every interaction leaving one singular question ringing through his mind, clouding his thoughts. 

how much longer was he going to able to keep it together?

“all right,” her voice pulled him out of his thoughts, snapping back to reality, “your turn.”

a fluffy white robe was cinched around her waist, the fabric covering nearly everything but a patch of skin between her breasts, a few marks poking out in the light. they were faded some, yet still prominent.

licking his lips, aaron clambered out of the bed, mustering every fiber in his being to break his gaze away, careful not to stare for too long. 

“that was quick.”

“i didn’t want to waste the warm water,” she responded, ringing a towel through her hair, “i’ll just change in here while you shower.”

“you have no problem stripping when you’re inebriated but the second you’re sober you have second thoughts?” aaron let out a laugh, lips stretching into a broader grin as he noticed the rosy hue spread through her cheeks, “i’m just teasing.”

“i hate you,” rowan muttered, lips curving into a pout.

“i know for a fact that you don’t.”

“i’ll be in bed when you return,” her eyes crinkled shut as her hand deflected a yawn. 

“and when i get out, i’ll be careful not to make any noise. every minute of sleep is precious. we have an unsub to track down when morning comes.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“what time is it?” her voice was barely a whisper, her back facing him. 

aaron rolled over, squinting in the low light. the numbers glared back, a sigh exiting his lips, “it’s about two thirty-eight, ro.”

“from the sound of it, you can’t sleep either.” 

“this bed is pretty uncomfortable,” aaron pulled the comforter tighter to his body, nuzzling into the pillow. 

“so are these pillows,” she grumbled, her tone hot with scorn, “why couldn’t we have booked some hotel in the town over?”

“the nearest town is forty minutes away.”

“so why can’t you sleep?” the ruffle of sheets crept into his left ear, “something on your mind?” 

“there’s a lot on my mind ro.”

“there you go again, calling me ‘ro’,” she exhaled, “you need to pick a side, aaron.”

“pick a side?” shifting his body, aaron faced rowan, his brow furrowed, “what are you talking about, rowan?”

“you need to pick a side,” she repeated, her depths nearly gleaming silver, “you can’t just keep leading me on but then pushing me away. it’s so fucking confusing because i like being around you, aaron, i really do. you make me happy and every time that i’m not with you, there’s this part of me that misses you.”

“rowan--” his throat tightened, “it’s just that--”

“oh what?” she challenged, “what is it that’s holding you back? right now, you’re laying close enough to reach out, close enough to touch me, but not too close because there is something in your mind telling you not to. is it the divorce? are you guys even officially separated? from the frequent phone calls you’ve been receiving lately, it seems as if it’s sorting out plans. sorting out plans for daycare, for spending the night. it’s sorting out plans for jack. the two of you don’t even live together and rossi told me that it’s been months since the papers were filed.”

“rowan.” her name was eerily quiet as it tumbled from his lips, yet she continued, her voice rising, inflected with notes of fury, tears threatening to spill over. 

an index finger prodded his chest, digging in, “you may have a cold tone when talking to me, but the second that i walk into a room your eyes gravitate towards my presence. you are keen when i speak and always tell the others to quiet down when i have headaches. you always ask if i’m going to make it home okay. fuck, the other night you let me stay at your apartment. is that just normal behavior to you? what are you so fucking afraid of aaron hotchner? and yes, i know how much you fucking despise being profiled but--”

“for fuck’s sakes,” the words were a growl, gravelly and harsh, “come here.”

fingers crept onto her cheeks, palms fully enveloping the heated skin, pulling her closer, mouths only inches away from one another. 

rowan’s heart skipped a beat as his eyes searched hers, the tip of his nose grazing against the inside of her cheek, “a-are you going to answer my question or not?”

“only if you want me to,” her lashes fluttered as lips brushed against hers, soft and plush.

“please do.”

the fingers glided into her hair, tugging at the roots as mouths collided with hers, a fiery kiss unraveling. aaron pulled her closer, desperate to have her as close as teeth gnashed against teeth, tongue delving into her mouth. a faint taste of cherries lingered, the taste sweet, only making him crave more. rowan’s hands flew to his chest, clutching the fabric of his tee as he sucked on her lower lip harshly, a whine rising in her throat. 

the whimper escalated into a broken moan as his mouth drifted lower, trailing just below her jawline, “a-aaron, please.”

“what?” he paused, voice edged with lust, “you have to use your words, ro.”

a shiver ran down her spine, her body nearly collapsing into his, “we have all night, you don’t have to be hasty.”

“i don’t know how much longer i can hold back ro.”

“god aaron,” rowan panted as he nipped at her neck, “i bet they can hear us--”

“let ‘em,” satisfaction coursed through him as he marveled at the fresh mark, “i want to hear you.”

fingers laced into his silky hair as his mouth drifted, tugging at the roots, “fuck, aaron. just take it off.”

he paused, breaking away, heart thudding, blood roaring in his ears, “do you want me to?”

rowan nodded, her cheeks tainted crimson, “please.”

gently, his hands hooked the hem of the plush crewneck clinging to her frame, gesturing for her to sit up. carefully, he worked it up her arms, pulling it over her head, casting the article of clothing to the floor. 

at the sight of her, he nearly came undone. 

her breasts bounced as her back hit the mattress, a cotton thong hugging her hips. her lips were parted, curved into a shy smile, brunette hair sweeping against the pillow. a silver chain glittered, hanging loosely from her neck, a charm resting against her collarbone. swallowing thickly, his hands gravitated towards her sides, slowly trailing back and forth, savoring the softness of her skin against his. several, tiny scars littered her chest, spanning down to the plane of her stomach, the areas a more pale complexion than the rest. 

“i’m sorry about the scars,” she sputtered, tripping over the words, “they’re really a mood killer and i’m so--”

 “ro,” his tone was firm, yet his voice was so gentle, so quiet, “don’t you dare apologize. you’re beautiful.”

a hand cupped his cheek, her thumb caressing the cheekbone, “you’re the first man who’s ever said that to me and meant it.”

“i’ll say it over and over again. all day, every day. every single second that i’m around you because i fucking mean it, rowan. you’re beautiful.” 

tears pooled in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over, “t-thank you.”

“no crying,” a chuckle tumbled from his lips, the pad of his thumb wiping away a tear, “i always hate seeing you cry.”

“i won’t cry anymore, promise. you should take this off,” her nails grazed the collar of his tee, “so we’re even.”

without any hesitations, he slipped out of his shirt, lowering his head so that he was at level with her chest, “can i?”

“can you what?”

“well,” his breath fanned against her skin, in close proximity, “you asked me a few nights ago if i wanted to suck on them. can i?”

“god, please.”

his mouth wrapped around her nipple, her back arching into him as his teeth tugged lightly, tongue flicking over the bud. rowan’s nails dug into his back, moans flooding the space, low and breathy, only fueling the lust burning within him. god, he needed more of her. he needed more of her so fucking bad. he needed all of her. 

“a-aaron,” rowan whimpered as his tongue traveled lower, going down her stomach, “i-i need you to touch me. or do something. fuck, i’m so wet and i can fucking feel it. i need you.”

“yeah?” his tone oozed authority, “you need me? how bad? how badly do you need me to touch you?”

“i just fucking need you,” her head thudded against the pillow, jaw slack, “i need you bad, aaron hotchner.”

the sound of his name, his full name, dripping from her lips, nearly sent him over the edge of losing all inhibitions, drunk off lust. 

aaron’s hands sprawled across her thighs, parting them in one swift motion, “if this gets to be too much, let me know. all right?”

“all right.”

settling flat on his stomach, his arms hooked around her thighs, his head level with her thong, “holy fuck. i can see how wet you are.”

“it’s all for you,” her voice faltered, squirming slightly as the tip of his nose brushed against her clit, “i’m so wet for you, sir.”

“sir?” aaron arched a brow, a smug smirk enveloping his features, “i like that, especially coming from your pretty little mouth. do you want me to put you in your place pretty girl? you want me to remind you who’s in charge? do you want me to make you feel good?”

rowan’s throat tightened, her clit practically throbbing through the cotton now, the fabric drenched with her juices, “yes sir. i need you to put me in my place.”

“that’s a good girl,” he hummed, fingers hooking the waistband, “let’s get these off you, hmmm?”

eagerly, rowan shimmied, aaron’s touch sending ripples of euphoria coursing through her body. it was almost as if every single part of her body was on fire, lit up from his words alone. the touch only intensified the scorching desire, consuming her whole. 

his tongue darted out, licking a stripe from her hole to her clit, delving between her folds, a pleased hum rising in his throat as he swallowed.

“i always knew you’d taste this good, pretty girl.”

“god,” she writhed beneath him, instinctively bucking her hips, “please--”

the sentence dissolved into a groan as his mouth connected with her pussy, burying his tongue into it. rowan’s hands tangled into his hair, pulling, only goading him to keep going. to keep ravaging her with his mouth until she was begging to stop. his tongue glided upwards, swirling on her clit, lapping away, desperate to taste every inch. to explore every convex and concave until there was nothing left. nothing left to taste.

“a-aaron,” pulling away, a strand of saliva followed, glittering in the light.

“say my name, say it again pretty girl. and don’t fucking stutter.”

“but your mouth--” she protested, biting her tongue.

a growl rumbled, “i don’t care where my mouth was. say it again.”

hands squeezed her breasts, rolling her nipples between fingers. the pleasure was overwhelming, the waves racking rowan’s body as his lips wrapped around her clit, sucking and darting across it. heat radiated off her cheeks, a sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead. 

“i-i’m going to cum,” a needy whine rang through the room, bouncing off the walls. 

“you better cum,” he was pinching her nipples now, “you better fucking cum like the good girl i know you are.”

“i-i’m going to,” her thighs twitched, her breathing picking up, “oh my god aaron, i’m going to--”

“that’s a good girl,” aaron’s eyes drank in the sight of her, trembling underneath him, her climax seconds away from unraveling, “you cum like the good girl you are.”

her hips rolled, riding out her orgasm on his tongue, clutching fistfuls of his hair. giving her pussy one final lick, aaron pulled away, her juices coating his mouth, dripping onto his chin. his cock was twitching now, pre-cum dribbling along his length, constrained to the tightness of his boxers. 

“fuck,” rowan cursed under her breath, her chest heaving, strands of hair plastered to her forehead, “aaron--” 

“you hanging in there, ro?” 

her response was a meek nod, a bead of sweat trickling down her temple, “yes.”

“i’m not finished with you yet princess,” aaron’s voice wavered as rowan propped herself up, reaching out, her hand flattening out on the print, fingers squeezing his shaft, “good god, p-please.”

“what?” tilting her head, rowan peered at him through thick lashes, batting them, “what is it, aaron?”

“i need you to fucking sit on it, that’s fucking what.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“what time are we supposed to meet at the station again?” 

“only a couple of hours now,” aaron fought back a yawn, pressing a light kiss to her shoulder blade, “it’s nearly five in the morning, ro.”

bodies were intertwined, a flurry of limbs. the haze of sex lingered, the scent of arousal thick in the air. yet, aaron hotchner felt nothing but pure bliss as he cradled her body in his arms, a warm, cozy feeling seeping into his chest as her bare skin pressed against his. 

shifting ever so slightly, a low grunt rumbled in his throat as his tip plunged further in, his cock coated with a sticky mess of his and her cum, the juices practically leaking down his shaft, pooling onto the sheets.

“aaron, please.”

“please what?” satisfaction coursed through his veins as her voice dripped with a plea, “you gotta use your words with me, rowan. i can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”

“we’ll be up all night,” rowan whispered, “i-it feels so good.”

swallowing thickly, his hand traveled from her hip to the plane of her stomach, “god, i think i can feel it.”

“i don’t know if i can handle any more.”

“i know baby,” pecking her cheek, aaron pulled out, savoring the sensation of her walls wrapped around his cock, “let’s get you cleaned up, and then maybe we’ll be able to get a few minutes of shut-eye before a phone rings.”

baby. 

rowan’s heart nearly soared at the pet name, the gentle notes inflected in his tone as he uttered it, the way it just sounded so right coming from him. god, was she so vulnerable in this state: enveloped in his tight embrace, nearly melting into his arms, not a single article of clothing adorning her frame.

in the moment, she was nothing but happy, cozy and content under the covers. 

if only she could spend every night like this with him, basking in the intimacy. falling so much harder than she initially thought. sure, aaron hotchner was a handsome man. he was level-headed, carried himself with ease, and was so utterly good-looking. he was a family man, unafraid to express his abundant love for his son. he was compassionate, putting his needs of the team before his own. he was self-less, always thrusting himself into harm's way before any member of his team or civilian. 

however, there was one aspect that rowan couldn’t understand. one particular trait that prevented her from giving herself to him completely. 

why couldn’t aaron hotchner show any vulnerability? why was he a changed man behind closed doors? 

“there,” his voice cut in the silence, “i changed the sheets. we should really rest, ro.”

padding over to the bed, rowan settled into the comforter, allowing space for aaron. within seconds, he was pulling her in, head nuzzling into the crook of her head, stubble grazing soft flesh, “i never really noticed it before, but you wear a butterfly necklace. is there any significance behind that?”

“i thought we were going to sleep hotchner,” rowan let out a hoarse chuckle, “but, to answer your query, i wear it in honor of my older brother. he was stillborn. when i was younger, my mom used to tell me that every single butterfly that i encountered was joshua, and he was just fluttering by to say hello. i wear the necklace to keep him close to my heart, because that’s where he resides. nearly every night, i dream about meeting him. i.. i really wish i could give him a hug sometimes, ya know? but you can’t hug butterflies or else that will kill them.”

fingers intertwined with hers, “you didn’t have to share that with me, ro, but i am so grateful that you did.”

“the thing is,” she paused, exhaling, “i want to share everything with you, aaron.”

lips brushed against her skin, “and i want to hear it all. every memory, every story, every inside joke. i want you to share these experiences and tales with me, rowan. i promise that i’ll listen.”

“what’s wrong with us? we’re not supposed to fall in love, aaron hotchner. you’re my boss. we’re federal agents. if anyone found out, our lives would be obliterated. if strauss ever caught wind of this, oh my god we would be--”

“rowan, listen to me,” the words were grounding,  “i don’t care what happens. there’s a lot of uncertainty in the future, but i know one thing’s for certain. i want anything to do with you, no matter what the cost. i would ask about those damn boots you love so much, but we really need to sleep if we’re going to function at all tomorrow. and i need that brilliant mind of yours if we’re going to get this guy.”

“i was planning on spilling a few more secrets.”

“we have the whole flight home for that,” the laugh vibrated in his throat, “sleep well, rowan. sweet dreams. i’ll be here when you wake up.”

“sweet dreams hotchner,” rowan murmured, lids heavy with exhaustion. 

within hours, beams of light were filtering in through the curtains, stirring the agent awake. groggily, she shifted, rolling over to face aaron, instinctively leaning in to press her lips against his for a warm good morning. 

but he wasn’t there, the mattress nothing but an unforgiving void of cold sheets and broken promises. 

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“listen,” emily prentiss grumbled, sifting through a pile of bills, “you owe me if i’m right.”

“i won’t,” rossi countered, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he cracked a smug smirk, “this isn’t the fifty i was promised when we made this bet. we shook on it, remember?”’

derek morgan poked his head out a door, “do you guys think they fucked?”

“fucked is such a vulgar word,” garcia snorted, shouldering past morgan, “also, i hate you for putting that filthy image in my head. it’s going to be there all day thanks to you.”

“It’s nothing that we don’t do babygirl,” morgan shot her a wink, “how much do i owe you, rossi?”

“fifty dollars,” rossi beamed, “i prefer fives, if you have them.”

“i don’t think that they had sexual intercourse,” reid cleared his throat, striding towards the elevator, “the infrastructure of this building has extremely thin walls. i would have heard something. do you guys even think that hotch has that stamina to--”

“all right, that’s enough!” morgan coughed, throwing his bag over his shoulder, “where is hotch, anyways? the door is cracked, but i haven’t seen him or rowan leave the room.”

“i’m sure all of our questions will be answered within the hour,” rossi remarked, accepting a wad of cash from morgan, “if we see hotch smile today, then that tells us that they weren’t sleeping last night.”

the team held their breaths as a door opened, rowan stepping out, shutting it softly behind her, “good morning guys.”

“good morning rivers!” prentiss chirped, “how did you sleep last night? don’t tell me he made you sleep on the floor.”

“i didn’t get much sleep at all,” the brunette muttered, “have you guys seen hotch at all this morning?”

“no,” rossi replied curtly, “we thought you two were getting a few more minutes of snuggling before we had to leave.”

rowan’s eyes squeezed shut, her features twisting together with pain, “c-can we please just quit it with the teasing today? just for today?” 

“oh,” prentiss’ face fell, brow furrowing with concern, “i-is everything alright rivers?”

“we didn’t mean to--” morgan began, but was promptly cut off by garcia. 

“maybe you just haven’t had your morning coffee yet buttercup. let’s get you something to eat too. you look like you’ve seen a ghost or something utterly horrifying. caffeine always lifts my spirits.”

as garcia and rowan strolled to the elevator, whispering amongst one another, rossi nudged morgan, “something happened last night between the two of them.”

“should we ask hotch about it?” prentiss inquired, picking a hair off her blazer, “or, should we leave it be?”

“i’ll handle it,” rossi smoothed out his shirt, lugging his back behind him. 

“i have an inkling that our unit chief is not aware of the consequences that come with reckless thinking.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“how are things today kiddo?” rowan flinched as a hand connected with her shoulder, “you’ve barely spoken a word to us all morning. and you’ve listened to every single order hotch has given you. is there something wrong?”

“oh,” rowan blinked, swiveling around in a chair, “um, i’ve just had a morning, i guess.”

letting out a sigh, david rossi slid into the nearest seat, scooting towards the agent, “you forget that i’ve been in this field for years, rowan. i know when something’s up. i won’t prod too much, but i’m worried about you. is it something to do with the case?”

“d-do you think anyone’s going to come over here?” rowan’s gaze flickered towards the group of cops huddled around the control center, chattering away. 

“come,” rossi rose to his feet, offering the brunette his elbow, “let’s go on a walk. there’s not much to do around here anyways. garcia is picking through the laptop, it may take a while.”

graciously, rowan accepted his offer, following him outside of the station into the dreariness of forks. dark, flint grey clouds loomed over, threatening rain. the air was chilly, piercing the agent to the bone as she clung onto rossi. 

“wait,” rossi paused, discarding his coat, “did romeo forget to offer his juliet his coat this morning?”

shoving her arms into the sleeves, rowan shuddered as a breeze rolled through the streets, “romeo is a fucking jackass, that’s what.”

“oh is he now?” rossi mused, “i figured he was the reason why your mood drastically changed. if you don’t mind me asking, what happened?”

“a lot,” the agent mumbled, careful to avoid the question. 

“i want to help,” he stated, his tone cool, “but i can’t do that if you don’t let me know what happened, rowan.”

“i-i’m sure it’s no secret that i came from a very, very, horrible place,” rowan began, shrinking inside the coat, boots thudding against the pavement, “the first day i arrived at the bau, it was also no secret that aa-- hotch and i butted heads. there are still times in which he annoys the shit out of me, but that’s besides the point. last night i made a mistake. i allowed myself to be vulnerable and let him see parts of me that i’ve hidden for so long. rossi, i-i, i’ve never allowed a man to touch me like that. not since the night of the stakeout.”

“rowan, you don’t have to continue if it’s only going to--”

“rossi, three people tore me apart. i’m still healing, the wounds are there, and they’re deep and jagged. and i promised myself that i would never let anyone in since that night, and here i am, passively watching as it happens. i let him in, and it was so beautiful and exhilarating. i wish it would have lasted forever but it didn’t. he was gone before i opened my eyes,” sobs racked rowan’s body as her knees buckled, crumpling to the pavement.

a single tear trickled down david rossi’s cheek, his heart nearly splitting into two, “oh rowan, i am so sorry. i am so fucking sorry. you can’t blame yourself for any of it. what happened in columbus was not your fault, rowan.”

“t-thank you,” she wiped her tears, her cheeks flushed, “i’m sorry for breaking down.”

“you don’t have to apologize for that either kiddo,” rossi extended a hand, guiding her to her feet, “you’re human. it’s okay.”

“have you talked to hotch at all today?” 

“not yet,” the agent shook his head, “however, i have some unfinished business to tend to.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

the rain was relentless, falling in sheets as aaron hotchner navigated through the wilderness, droplets streaming down his brow onto his cheeks, blurring his vision. david rossi was not far behind, merely a few feet away. 

after garcia scoured every nook and cranny of the unsub’s personal laptop, she managed to extract essential information regarding his whereabouts. the team had split up into several groups, partnering up with one another to fan out, hoping to close in on an abandoned cabin, deep in the woods of forks. 

with every step, aaron hotchner’s bones seared, desperate for relief. he was exhausted, the lack of sleep no help whatsoever. yet, it was only a matter of hours now before he was back home, all warm and dry, relaxing on the couch with jack, watching his favorite movie.  

only a couple more hours and he would be home. 

“all right dumbass,” hotch’s head whipped around at the harsh tone laced in rossi’s words, “i have some choice words for you.”

“excuse me?”

the agent stopped in his tracks, folding his arms across his chest, “you two had sex, didn’t you?”

“w-what?” hotch sputtered, shock plastered across his features, “rossi, what are you talking about?”

there was a beat of silence before rossi resumed, “you broke down your walls and decided to be intimate with her but then the second the run rose, you were out of the bed, as distant and cold as possible. i know how that shit works, aaron. it’s not a pleasant feeling to wake up and not have the person there.” 

aaron hotchner almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “rossi, come on we have a case-” 

“why would you say all that shit to her, hotch? we all know that you have feelings for her ah-,” rossi held up a hand, challenging aaron to butt in, “don’t interrupt me. it’s okay to have feelings but you know what’s not okay? hurting her because you’re scared. you don’t have to explain your feelings to me but please explain them to her. we all know she doesn’t deserve this at all, hotch. and you of all people should know that.”

“we’re working on a case and the only thing on your mind right now is scolding me for--”

“don’t change the fucking subject, aaron. you need to get yourself together, if not for yourself then for her,” his fury bubbled up as he spoke, the mocha depths blazing an obsidian hue. 

“rossi, you know what that divorce did to me--” hotch stammered, scrambling for formulate some sort of response. some sort of deflection so that the discussion would cease. 

“but look at what you’re doing to her.”

“but rossi i--” hotch was on the verge of retaliation, but rossi pointed a finger at him, jabbing it into his arm, so forceful that aaron nearly yelped. 

“no, aaron. this is for you to explain to her. not to me.” 

*****

rowan rivers hovered over her desk, collecting some final papers, gathering them in a neat pile as members of the team filed into the elevator, silence consuming the behavioral analysis unit of quantico, virginia. everyone was beyond worn, their muscles sore, tense from the washington atmosphere, their minds weary from the heavy burdens of the job. 

however, there was a far heavier burden weighing on rowan’s mind. 

the click of shoes meeting tile caught rowan’s attention, a familiar pair of slacks appearing in her peripheral vision.

“you’re right rowan.”

aaron hotchner stood before her, his coat draped over an arm, bag slung across his shoulder. even in the light, rowan couldn’t help but notice the faint purple rings forming underneath his eyes, the thick lashes almost hiding them. the wrinkles lining his forehead and eyes were more prominent, deepened by hardships and loss. inky black hair that was gelled over only hours before was unkempt, strands of hair falling into his forehead. 

rowan wanted nothing more to throw her arms around him, holding him close for an embrace. 

but, she felt as if she couldn’t. not after what he did. 

the agent met his gaze, her lips pursed with confusion, “aaron, what are you talking about?”

he shifted, swaying from side to side, fumbling with his hands, “you’re right about me. i’m afraid. i’m afraid of falling for you and not being able to control it. i hate not being in control ro, but god do i lose control every single second i’m around you.”

“aaron we don’t have to--”

he shook his head, lower lip trembling, “no i want to talk about this, ro. you told me to pick a side and i pick you.”

it was almost as if a weight was lifted from her shoulders. there was no more confusion, no more unrest. no more tears to be shed pondering over the “what ifs.” he was fessing up, finally answering the queries that kept her up late at night, losing hours of sleep. 

he didn’t hate her. 

he was falling in love with her. 

tears welled up in his eyes, tinging them red as he choked down sobs, burying his face in his hands. carefully, rowan’s hands enveloped his wrists, bringing them away from his face, “i’m just as afraid, aaron. but it’s okay. we’re in this together, just two people falling for one another.”

 the second rowan’s hand cupped his cheeks, cradling his face in her hands, aaron melted, collapsing completely, “rossi confronted me about it all. he said i needed to get my shit together because it was hurting you. i’m sorry. i’m so sorry. i can be a little bit dense sometimes and a bit of an asshole.”

“a bit dense and a bit of an asshole?” rowan teased, the pad of her thumb wiping away a tear, “that sounds a little bit like you, aaron.”

“come home with me tonight. no hiding feelings. no intoxication. i just want you in my arms,” aaron murmured, his mouth nearly inches away from hers.

his heart skipped a beat as the corners of her lips curled into a bright, radiant grin, her head bobbing, “i’d like that. i’d like that very much.”

within hours, she was clinging to his frame, her head nuzzled against the fabric of his tee, light snores echoing through the room. his hands were threaded into her hair, subconsciously playing with the silky brunette locks as he glanced through paperwork, careful not to disturb her one bit.

his phone vibrated against the wood of the nightstand, piquing his interest. the caller i.d. was all too familiar. 

“hotchner.”

“hey hotch it’s jj, i know that we all just made it home, barely settling in for the night but we were just invited on a case. from the sound of it, it’s quite urgent. the governor wants us to fly out there as soon as possible,” the blonde’s voice crackled on the speaker. 

“and where’s this case?” a hand gravitated to rowan’s, lacing their fingers together as she stirred, bleary from sleep. 

“columbus. columbus, ohio.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ 

tagged: @sapphicstars​ @colorlessfl0wers​ @inlovewithaaronhotchner​ @lovebodymindstuff​ 

[goldencursive]

Chapter Two: 1965 words

Title: bro, will you be my bro forever, bro?

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Kaminari Denki/Sero Hanta, Kaminari Denki & Sero Hanta

Characters: Kaminari Denki, Sero Hanta, Uraraka Ochako, Ashido Mina, Hagakure Tooru, Midoriya Izuku, Kirishima Eijirou, Bakugou Katsuki

Additional Tags: BNHA Rarepair Week 2021, Fake/Pretend Relationship, 5+1 Things, Fluff, Humor, or At Least an Attempt at Humor, Carnival, Meet the Family, a wedding wheeee, its not kamisero's lol, POV Kaminari Denki, POV Sero Hanta, POV Alternating, Mutual Pining

Summary:

alternatively titled: five times denki and hanta pretend to boyfriends and one time they actually are

“Brooooo, look at that!” Eijirou’s excited voice calls from ahead. The Bakusquad were hanging out at the fair during a rare day of relaxation. Most of the other members of their class are scattered around the fairgrounds somewhere, but right now, the five of them - minus Kyouka, who’s on a date with Yaomomo - are standing in front of a small contest stage.

“Wow,” Hanta remarks. “That is a giant Pikachu plushie.” Denki gapes at it. It’s in a sitting position, arms out, face beaming. It’s as big as he is. He wants it.

“I want it,” Denki announces out loud. “It looks so soft and cute and huggable. Can you imagine the cuddles you could get out of it?”

The Pikachu is sitting close enough to the front of the stage that they could touch it if they want to. Well, if they had really long arms. Like, arms twice as long as their legs, while holding one of those claw grabber thingys.

Okay, maybe they can’t touch it, but still. They can see it close up in its full, fluffy glory.

“Hey, you guys admiring our Pikachu plushie?” A bubbly girl with bright green hair pops up from behind it. “You can win it from our contest! Couples only, starts in an hour. I can give you a sign up sheet if you want it.”

Denki turns to Hanta immediately, because he might not have a boyfriend, but he does have a best friend who he’s totally not crushing on what do you mean and who owes him so many favors for charging his phone. “Hanta, bro, please. I have never wanted anything more in my life.”

Mina snickers and drapes her arm around him. “Didn’t you say that last week about the cake Sato made?”

“His cakes are like heaven and angel tears rolled up in the burrito of the gods, okay? Don’t judge me, Kiri said the same thing.” Denki crosses his arms, pouting. “Anyways, I have never wanted anything more in my life, Hanta, please help me.”

Katsuki smacks Denki in the back of the head (but nowhere near as hard as he would have in first year because they’re totally friends now, no matter how much he likes to deny it). “Idiot, you didn’t even see what kind of fucking contest it is. Don’t just jump into it without being prepared.”

“Says you,” Mina snickers.

“Oi, you wanna die?!”

“I’m a bad bitch, you can’t kill me,” she answers playfully, ducking behind Eijirou.

While Eijirou tries to defuse the Bakubomb, Denki turns to the sign next to the Pikachu. “How well do you know your partner?” he reads. “Hey, that doesn’t sound too hard! We know each other pretty well, I think,” he says, turning to Hanta. Although he’s not sure the kind of information he knows, like how Hanta still sleep with a blanket his mom made

“I mean, it’ll be fun,” shrugs the taller boy. “I’m down.”

Denki cheers, and accepts a sheet from the girl. “Let’s gooooo.”

<><><><><>

An hour later, they’re sitting across from each other with a whiteboard in their hands. The three couples sit at tables arranged in a row with the two hosts in front of them and the prize Pikachu on a raised pedestal behind them.

“All right, let’s get started!” cries the bubbly girl from earlier. “I’m Hina and this is Yumi.” She gestures to the pink haired girl beside her, who cheerfully waves to the crowd gathered in front of the stage. “This is our ‘How Well Do You Know Your Partner’ contest for couples. It’s a lot harder than you’d think! We host this every day at the same time, so if you wanna participate but missed out today, you can always come back tomorrow! Now, can we get some introductions from our couples? We’ll start with you two,” she says, gesturing to the couple on the right of Denki and Hanta, a shy looking boy and brown haired girl.

They wave to the audience, introducing themselves as Yui and Haruto. “We’ve been together for over a year now, so I’m certain we’ll win!” the girl, Yui, says, smiling.

“All right, long term relationships are the best for this kind of contest! How about you guys?” Hina continues, gesturing to Denki and Hanta.

“What up, people? I’m Denki, and this is Hanta, my best bro and the love of my life.” Denki gives Hanta a dopey smile that’s not hard to fake because it’s not fake, and playfully bats his eyelashes, making Hanta crack up.

“Bro, stop, you’re going to make me blush in front of all these people,” Hanta says between snickers.

“What a lovely relationship! We love the ones where you can play around with your partners,” Hina says with a grin. “Now, what about the last couple?”

“I’m Ayaka and my girlfriend is Sora,” grins a girl with hair red enough to rival Eijirou’s. “We’re just here for the Pikachu!” Her girlfriend smacks her arm for being so blunt, but Ayaka’s grin doesn’t falter.

“That’s right! Our lovely prize, a giant stuffed Pikachu plushie, will be in the possession of whoever wins our contest! Now, our rules.” Hina looks over to her partner, who smoothly jumps in.

“The rules are simple: we’ll ask twelve questions of varying difficulties. Each of our contestants have a different color based on the seat they sit in, red or blue. We’ll direct our questions to either color. For example, if we ask Blue what Red’s favorite color is, Blue will write their guess on their board, while Red writes the correct answer on theirs. You’ll have thirty seconds to answer the question. Everybody got it?” She looks back at the contestants, who all nod back at her.

“Then let’s get started!” smiles Hina. “First question: what is Blue’s favorite food?”

Okay, blue, that’s Hanta. Denki looks down at his whiteboard, thinking. The first two things that pop to mind are oranges and soy bean flavored food. But which does he like better? Can he write down both? Is that allowed?

“Ten seconds!” Yumi calls. Ok, no time to agonize over it. Denki quickly scribbles ‘soy bean flavored stuff’ down. Hanta drinks soy bean milk all the time and hardly ever steals Denki’s orange juice, unlike SOME people who shall remain unnamed (cough *mina* cough cough). “Time’s up! Please flip your boards around to show the audience!”

Denki cranes neck to see what Hanta wrote. “Hey, we wrote the same answer word for word,” he says, grinning at Hanta. “High five!”

“Looks like everybody got this question right! Congratulations!” says Yumi. Hina makes a show of adding points to a large whiteboard bearing their names. “Next question: when is Red’s birthday?”

Denki writes a neat “July 29th” on his board, smiling as he remembers the first time they told each other their birthdays. Denki had been so excited to find out that their birthdays were only a month apart.

“All right, another easy point for everybody,” cheers Hina. “Keep it up! The next question: what is Blue’s favorite hobby?”

Favorite hobby, huh? Well, they don’t really have time for any serious hobbies outside of hero-ing, but Denki remembers oohing and aahing with Mina and Eijirou over the beautifully hand-woven rugs and tapestries all over Hanta’s room. His family owns a crafts shop, and Hanta had gotten into weaving that way, saying it was fun playing with the patterns he could create and good stress relief as well. So, weaving then.

“Let’s check out your answers,” Yumi says, calling the time. “Hm, looks like Yui and Haruto are the only ones missing this question.” Yui, sitting in the blue seat, frowns at her boyfriend for getting it wrong, but softens when he murmurs something back.

“I’m surprised you remember I like to weave,” Hanta says, a teasing glint in his eyes.

Denki snorts. “Your room is covered in the stuff. It’s kinda hard to forget.”

The next few questions go by without a hitch for Denki and Hanta. “Hey, we’re doing pretty good,” Hanta says. “We’re the only ones who have a perfect score right now.”

“Heck yeah, that Pikachu’s gonna be mine,” grins Denki. He’s honestly kind of surprised that they were the ones with the perfect streak, even though they weren’t even dating. But he can’t deny the burst of satisfaction that comes with getting each question right, and further cementing their brohood.

“Okay, we’re getting into the last few questions now. Who was Red’s first kiss?” Hina asks deviously.

Aw, shucks, this might actually throw their score off. Denki’s not sure if he’s ever told Hanta who his first kiss was since the guy wasn’t really anybody special. Actually, Denki kinda feels bad for forgetting the dude’s name as he scribbles down “a boy in middle school.” When the timer runs out, Hanta’s board only has a question mark on it, and he smiles sheepishly at Denki.

“Sorry for not knowing,” he says.

“Nah, dude, you couldn’t have known since I never told you,” Denki says, brushing it off. “But, hey, we still have the lead!” he continues, beaming. Hanta returns his smile with a wider one. Honestly, Denki could get drunk off Hanta’s smile, sweet and goofy and always there, like the way All Might’s always smiling, but softer and infinitely cuter.

Get a grip, Denki, he scolds himself. He’s definitely going to notice if you keep staring at him. So he looks towards the two hosts and gets ready to answer the next question.

“What is Red’s weirdest fear?”

Huh. It would be an easy point if the question were biggest fear since it’s common knowledge that Denki hates spiders as much as Katsuki loves swearing, but weirdest fear? Denki has lots of fears, ranging from insects to angry pomeranians (thanks katsuki) to forgetting his homework to Midoriya with no sleep (you’d understand if you saw it). And it has to be one that Hanta knows, so what about...sand foxes.

Okay, listen, Denki knows next to nothing about sand foxes, but he does know that their faces are NOT NATURAL and CREEP HIM OUT, so DON’T laugh at him. Seriously, the first Denki saw one, he couldn’t stop thinking about that face for hours. It still haunts him to this day. And it's definitely a weird fear that Denki complains to Hanta about all the time.

“Alright, let’s see your answers!” Looking around, Denki sees that only he and Hanta got this question.

“Dude, we’re totally gonna win,” Denki whisper-shouts excitedly, leaning into the table. “Look at how far we are compared to everyone else!”

It comes as no surprise, then, that they do end up winning. The contestants line up in front of tables. “Hey, that was a great game! In third place, unfortunately, is Yui and Haruto, with six points.” Kinda strange, that the couple has been together for over a year and they have the lowest score, Denki muses. Meh. Worked out in his favor. “Second place, we have Sora and Ayaka, with eight points. And finally, our winners, Denki and Hanta, with eleven points!”

Denki whoops, turning to give Hanta a high five. The other two couples walk off the stage while Yumi and Hina hand over their prize. “I know this Pikachu is huge and kind of hard to carry, so you can leave it here until you’re ready to leave,” Hina tells them.

“Promise we won’t let anyone steal it,” Yumi adds, winking.

“Nah, I think we have to go now,” Hanta says, shaking his head. They say goodbye to the two ladies and rejoin their waiting friends, carrying the heavier-than-expected plush between them.

“Bro, it’s even bigger up close!” Eijirou raves.

“And it’s so fluffy I’m going to die!” squeals Mina. She strokes it reverently. “Denki, you have to bring it to our next Bakusquad sleepover.”

Denki laughs. “You know it!”

<>

one thing that i couldn't find a proper place to add in: i promise denki's not being inconsiderate in assuming the pikachu all for himself! they had a convo abt it while they were waiting for the contest to start

part one | part three

[angstyaches]

Alone (Hitori de)

So I feel like I’ve been teasing this OC’s introduction for... a long time?! So finally, here’s your invitation to Ryan Aldridge’s 200th birthday party! 

CW: nausea, emeto, loneliness, jetlag, character overwhelmed by language

He was swaying a little – hopefully not noticeably – as he passed countless faces. Countless strangers who, no matter their differences, were all dressed in black and white attire; monochromatic dresses and stiff-looking suits were the order of the evening. All blending in, all the same.

However, most other people at the party weren’t hiding sweat patches under their suit jackets, or struggling to stand upright because of stomach cramps and dizzy spells.

Conversations blew past, the onslaught of the known, yet vaguely unfamiliar, language making everything worse. His hands were shaking, and the loneliness felt like an alien thing attached to his stomach lining, niggling away with the possibility that he wouldn’t find who he was looking for.

He lingered by the refreshments table, resigning to just grabbing a cup of water. There was a selection of food – as well as goblets of blood and various entrails for the strictly carnivorous guests – on display in giant, elaborate glass bowls, anyone’s for the taking. He averted his eyes from all of this; the thought of putting anything in his stomach right then made him want to retch, despite the fact that his last meal had been on a plane ten hours ago.

It could have been the three plane rides that were making him feel so horrible, or maybe it was the fact that his eating and sleeping schedule had been shaken around relentlessly over the past three days. Or was it two days? He couldn’t even get it straight in his head.

The cold water settled in his belly for all of a couple of seconds before he felt it gush back towards his throat. He hiccupped deeply, pressing a hand to his mouth just in case anything had made it all the way up. He glanced around, noting that none of the nearby guests had turned to look at him.

Feet swirled in and out of his vision as he stared at the floor and shuffled away from the table. Arms brushed against his and made his clammy skin crawl. His agoraphobia didn’t usually affect him as badly as his claustrophobia, but right now it felt like the two were ganging up on him.

He needed to get out of there.

He weaved through to the other end of the hall, mumbling “sumimasen, excuse me, I’m sorryyyy” all the while. He began to feel off-balance, like he’d accidentally put his tight dress shoes on the wrong feet. He somehow made it out of the function room and through the foyer, stumbling out into the night.

At the top of the glossy marble staircase that overlooked the mansion’s car park, he loosened his tie and undid his top button. His shirt felt soaked with sweat under his jacket, his hair curled and sticking to the back of his neck. Now that he was away from the party, he could hear his own stomach groaning in discomfort.

He sat down at the side of the top stair, leaning his head against a cool marble column. He was tempted to close his eyes for a bit, but he was afraid his jetlagged brain would put him straight to sleep if he did. He couldn’t imagine any of the Elder and elitists would be too pleased to find an unconscious Japanese boy slumped at the top of the stairs of this very fancy mansion. He could just imagine the scolding phone call he would get from Yumi if she caught wind of it all.

The cold air relaxed him for a few minutes, before he heard footsteps coming up from the car park of the mansion, as well as low voices speaking to each other. He lowered his head a little further, curling an arm around the side of his face to hide from whoever was coming, waiting with the other hand pressed into his gut for his moment of solitude to be restored.

Not that he wanted to be alone, exactly.

“- hear what she said?”

“I heard her, boo, but I still don’t think she meant it the way you’re taking it.”

“Yeah, well, I think you give them too much slack, honestly.”

He lifted his head to see the two figures who had just walked past him towards the entrance to the mansion. One of them was a tall, dark guy whose suit jacket was slung over his shoulder, revealing suspenders worn over a grey-and-white pinstripe shirt.

The other was a lot shorter, paler, and had vibrant blue-green hair. His suit jacket was nowhere to be seen, and his shirt was silky and patterned like a chessboard.

His heart grew lighter in his chest and tears sprang to his eyes. A brand-new wave of energy struck his bloodstream and his nervous system, and if he’d been in fox form at that moment, he’d have wagged his fluffy white tail.

His legs carried him back inside without much input from his thoughts, and he couldn’t stop smiling to himself. Even the pain in his belly faded to the back of his mind; even the unsteadiness left him alone. The crowd didn’t freak him out as much as he joined it this time; because in the sea of black and white attire, he could see that mint-coloured hair.

It had been a silvery shade of lilac when he had last seen it, and it was about thirty feet away, buried in the crowd.

He couldn’t wait any longer.

“Fee-kun!”

Heads shot up from drinks and conversations, but none of them were the right heads. Kazu began to giggle as more and more attention was drawn towards him, and it only made him more and more excited, more and more eager to –

“FEE-KUN!”

He looked this time, blinking in disbelief.

“Kaz?” Felix asked, eyes widening as started to push his way back through the crowd.

Kazu allowed himself a shaky smile.

“Kaz?” Felix squeaked, starting to run a bit now.

Kazu managed to brace himself in time for Felix to throw his weight towards him. He scooped the smaller boy into a hug; there was so much adrenaline in his blood that he mustered the strength to lift Felix up off the ground and spin him slightly before setting him back down.

Just like he used to.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it’s really you,” Felix gushed, clinging to Kazu for dear life. Kazu was a little wary of the pressure this was putting on his stomach, but he still laughed and continued to squeeze his friend back.

He also noticed the disgruntled looks that some of the older guests were throwing their way, but if Felix didn’t care, then Kazu certainly didn’t.

“Hisashiburi, ne?”

“Hisashiburi.” Felix’s voice cracked a bit as he nodded violently, his chin knocking against Kazu’s collarbone. It certainly had been a long time. Six years, to be exact. Felix still looked like the same twenty-three year old Kazu had known back then, whereas Kazu had gone from nineteen to twenty-five in that time.

“Genki?” Felix demanded to know, his voice warm beside Kazu’s ear. Are you well? His Japanese was nowhere near the level of Kazu’s English, but Kazu appreciated the effort. The rushed little greetings were making him feel a little less overwhelmed.

“Genki,” Kazu muttered, though now that he thought about it, he felt far, far from genki, and he didn’t feel good about lying to his friend. “Ah – I – I’m tired.”

“You look it, buddy,” Felix said as he pulled back, frowning as he scanned his friend’s face. “When was your flight in? Today?”

“Ah, uh, yes,” Kazu said shakily. “For me, yesterday.”

“Right, right.” Felix turned his head, beckoning for his taller, darker companion to join them. So far, he had been hovering a few steps below, but he silently came back up, letting Felix take his hand. The rest of the party had gone about their business by now, Kazu noted.

“Elli, you remember me telling you about Kazuhito, right?”

The guy nodded quietly.

“Kaz, this is Elliott,” Felix smiled.

Kazu glanced down, gulping back a mouthful of sour spit as he saw how the two of them were holding hands. He’d never felt anything romantic towards Felix, but he’d also never had to share him with anyone; when he’d come to Japan, Felix had been alone and completely helpless until Kazuhito had offered him somewhere to stay.

Now Kazu was the one in a foreign land. Now he was the one who was alone.

He was working himself up to repeating the name Felix had given, briefly panicking that he was going to mess up the L-sound. He wondered if he should just lean into a funny mispronunciation, to try to break the ice.

“Ni-nice to mee–”

Kazu swallowed mid-speech and clamped a hand to his mouth. The crashing waves in his stomach were even more unsettled after the jumping and hugging and spinning. The excitement and relief he’d felt upon seeing Felix was already ebbing away, leaving just nausea and exhaustion. He really didn’t feel like talking, not with how horrible his body felt, and not while there were so many people around. What he wanted was a bed, preferably his futon back home, but he’d have settled for anything.

“Hey, are you okay?” Felix asked, his eyes widening again.

“Ore – kibun –  I…” Kazu mumbled into his hand, too dizzy to try to explain in English. He gently placed his other hand on his stomach for emphasis. “Onaka ga itai.”

“What, really? Your stomach hurts?” Felix glanced around, stepping closer again so he could put a hand to Kazu’s elbow.

Kazu moaned. He felt like the world was tilting on its side. He wanted to warn Felix of just how bad he felt, of the very real danger of –

Before he could make up his mind what to do or say, his body made a decision of its own, and his head shot forward with incredible force. His hand flew away and his jaw fell open, and he emptied out the scarce remains of his in-flight meal and all of the water he’d drank.

A beat of silence rang through his head after the splash.

His mouth was still hanging open wide as saliva and vomit dripped from his lips to the polished white floor. He slowly looked up to see that he’d puked all over Felix and his boyfriend, coating their shoes and the fronts of their clothes with thick white chunks and yellow liquid. The nearby guests had leaped back, shuffling about and looking at their feet and exclaiming things that Kazu couldn’t focus enough to hear.

With his stomach feeling somewhat relieved, Kazu felt his shoulders begin to tremble with a weak roll of laughter.

“Fucking hell, Felix,” the boyfriend growled, as though Kazu’s vomit was somehow Felix’s responsibility. His hands were hovering out from his body as he looked down at his destroyed shirt, his spattered suspenders.

Felix just gave a shaky smile and put his hand on Kazu’s shoulder.

“Fee-kun, gomen,” Kazu giggled, sorry, covering his mouth in response to both the laughter and the nausea that was rolling around for a second appearance. He gulped loudly, making Felix jump. “Go-gomen, ne…”

“Don’t – don’t be sorry, okay? Let’s just get you out of here. Excuse us, sorry, can we just –?”

Kazu let himself be directed back out through the doors and towards the top of those outdoor marble stairs again. His vision was fuzzy, but Kazu broke away and threw himself against a wall, doubling forward and ejected another stream of sick, this time into an elaborate flowerbed about ten feet below.

“Oh, gosh, the hydrangeas.”

Kazu tensed as he felt Felix come up beside him.

“Sorry, it’s – don’t worry, just get everything up. You poor thing,” Felix sighed, rubbing his back firmly despite the fact his dress shirt and jacket were now soaked through with sweat. With his free hand, Felix reached around and laid a cool palm against Kazu’s forehead. “I think you might have picked up a bug, maybe on one of your flights. You’re a tad hot. Atsui.”

“Atsui,” Kazu agreed, spitting away some of the sour fluid still pooling around his tongue and teeth. He lifted his head back from over the wall. He scoffed with nervous laughter as he looked at that first wave of sick again, soaking into the laces of Felix’s shoes. “Yabai. Sorry, Felix.”

“Daichi Kazuhito?”

A woman’s deep voice made Kazu turn his head. His guts felt even wobblier under her pale yellow gaze. She had frosty-white hair, almost as white as the streak that ran through Kazu’s, breaking up the silky black. He didn’t have to wonder who she was.

“Ka-Kazuhito desu,” he muttered. “Ryan-sama, hajimemashite. Tanjoubi omedetou…”

Felix cleared his throat. “He – he said it’s nice to meet you, and happy birthday –”

“Yes, thank you, Felix,” Ryan said evenly. Without any change in her expression, she began to address Kazu, in Japanese, explaining that she was good friends with Yumi, which he’d already been aware of. He had to really focus on what she was saying, not just because of her accent, but also because his belly was still churning, despite its contents now being spread out across Felix, Elliott, and the mansion’s hydrangeas. His ears pricked up at certain words, especially when he realised she was asking him a question. “Hitori de?”

Kazu nodded miserably as his fever- and jetlag-induced fear was pounded into his chest. He began to press a hand against his belly again, as the nausea began to melt into a dull, twisting ache.

“Hi-hitori de,” he said in a quiet voice. He had come here alone. One person. Just Kazuhito. He mumbled softly that Yumi sent her apologies, but work had been too hectic for her to take time off to travel.

As he spoke, he felt Felix reach up to brush his hair back from his sticky forehead. Kazu felt goosebumps breaking out all down his back and his arms.

“He can stay with us, can’t he, Ryan?” Felix asked softly. “Seeing as he’s sick. He helped me out a lot, back when – well, when I was in a much worse state than this.”

Ryan pursed her lips. “Elliott’s already headed for the car.”

A warm glow spread through Kazu’s chest as Felix linked an arm through his elbow and pulled him close. “Thank you, Ryan. So, we’ll see you at home tomorrow?”

“You will, indeed.” Ryan looked Felix up and down swiftly, eyeing the vomit stains on his pants and shirt. “Wash those trousers immediately. You can burn the shirt. It’s an insult to good taste.”

Felix laughed to himself as she stalked off, and Kazu finally eased the last of his weight up from his elbows, up from the edge of the wall. He felt his stomach gurgle, the sound traveling right up in his throat. He burped uneasily into his fist and smiled awkwardly at Felix.

“Come on,” the bright-haired boy coaxed. “Let’s get you out of here, before you puke all over these lovely steps.”

[secretobsessionstuff]

Hey Max, hope you're doing well! I've got a request for you if you're taking them rn. Really been wishing for a cute fluffy fever fic for my faves Riley and Madix. Either one could be the sickee, I can't decide lol. And maybe the caretaker giving the sickee a bath or helping them shower or something cause that's like my weakness omg.

So this got a bit more intense than pure fluff, but I still think it’s adorable! I actually think it’s one of my favourite fics I have written :) 

Even beneath layers of winter clothing, Madix still shivered from head to toe. He felt goosebumps all around his neck, but wrapping his scarf up tighter wasn’t doing anything to relieve the chill he felt in his bones. The soft fabric of the scarf was wet with melting snow on the outside, and damp with mucus on the inside. He sniffled from within the cocoon he made for himself, feeling properly ill.

This late in the afternoon, he could not have guessed how many times he sneezed or coughed throughout the day. In truth, the stuffy feeling in his head and the monstrous fatigue had only set in about an hour ago. He was only just now feeling like he could collapse at any moment. The idea of going back to the lodge and melting in front of the fireplace was beginning to consume his fevered mind.

It was Riley’s idea to put on their heavy winter boots and go walking in the thick forest just outside the ski lodge. At the time, Madix thought it sounded romantic. Now, it felt more like walking through a frozen hellscape.

Through the dense snow, Madix trudged closer to Riley, feeling like he was wading in tar. He was out of breath once he finally caught up to his boyfriend. With his hands on his knees, he bent forward in an effort to stop the world from spinning. God, his head was pounding. It didn’t help that his teeth were chattering so loud that it vibrated in his skull. Riley didn’t notice any of this because he was busy catching snowflakes on his tongue. He looked so happy, like a puppy experiencing snow for the first time. At least Madix thought he looked happy; he could have been wrong. His eyes were burning and tearing up too much to be sure of anything.

“Riley…” Madix said breathlessly. He cleared his throat that felt raw and sore. “Can we go back now? I’m starting to not feel so good.”

“What!” Riley’s gaze snapped away from the sky and landed on Madix. With the hat, the fluffy-rimmed hood, and the suffocating scarf, Riley could barely see his boyfriend’s face. Only a small portion of his red wind-burnt cheeks could be seen. “You don’t feel well?”

Madix swallowed painfully, causing him to grimace while shaking his head. Before he could answer, a wet cough covered his scarf in more sick droplets. When he finished his coughing fit, Riley was next to him and put a gloved hand on his shoulder. With the thick winter coat, he didn’t really feel his touch, but it was the thought that counted. Riley’s eyes – which were essentially all that could be seen with his own winter gear – looked disappointed for a millisecond just as concern took over. Madix cleared his throat again. “I’m sorry it came on really suddenly.”

“No, no, that’s okay.” Riley assured him. “You don’t sound too great either.” He looked around the empty forest that was beginning to darken. The top of the ski lodge was still visible from in between the trees. “I think we’ve got a thirty-minute walk back. Can you handle that?”

“I think so.” Madix swallowed and immediately regretted it because it reminded him just how bad he felt. He took a heavy and difficult step forward.

The boys walked for long while. Well, Riley walked; Madix took one step every hour. The energy needed to lift his foot out of the snow was monumental. It didn’t take long for Riley to be several paces ahead of him. Every minute or so, Riley looked back when he realized that his boyfriend had fallen behind.

“We’re almost there,” he called back. “You good?”

Madix didn’t answer, maybe because he didn’t hear or because he didn’t have the voice to shout back. His head was swimming in what felt like a sea of fallen snow. His aching muscles were about to give out, but on the bright side he wasn’t freezing cold anymore. The scarf was now drenched in sweat that was slowly hardening in the cold. If Madix were lucid enough, he would have known that that was actually bad sign.

He tried calling out to Riley, but another coughing fit seized his body. From the force of the expulsion, he fell forward into the snow.

“Madix!” Riley yelled as he watched his boyfriend crumble. In seconds, he ran back to the fallen boy and dropped to his knees. Riley picked up Madix and held his flushed face in his hands.

“I’m tired,” Madix mumbled against his scarf. “Are we almost home?”

Riley’s heartrate sped up upon hearing that. He didn’t think Madix was feeling this sick, but he knew what Madix meant by home, and they were nowhere near their home. With shaking hands, Riley removed his thick black gloves to pull down Madix’s scarf. His skin was slick with sweat and blotchy. It was easy to feel the fever raging throughout his body as Riley placed his cold bare hand on Madix’s burning cheek.

“Oh fuck…” Riley said more so to himself, as he could feel panic beginning to rise in his chest. He quickly slipped his gloves back on, covered up his boyfriend’s face, and pulled him to his unsteady feet. “Madix, I know you feel like death, but we have to keep walking.”

A small whimper escaped Madix’s mouth. “It’s so far away.”

“No, it’s not,” Riley lied. “Come on, lean on me.”

It felt like an eternity as Riley led his boyfriend back to the lodge. During the entire walk, he supported Madix’s weight. He just kept repeating the same thing. We’re almost there. Just a little bit further, he would say. Riley’s hand felt like it was still tingling from the heat that he found on Madix’s skin. His only thought was that he needed to get his fever down and soon.

Riley could have cried when they finally made it back to the room. The impeding winter coat was quickly thrown off so that he could move more freely. Still in his heavy snow pants, he sat Madix on the bed and began the process of undressing him. The hat came off first, making Madix’s sweat-soaked chocolate brown hair stick up at random angles. Next came the scarf that unravelled like a frozen newspaper.

Once inside the warm interior, Madix slowly came out of his delirious state. He blinked around and realized that Riley was stripping him of his winter gear, piece by piece. “Ry?” He squinted from the harsh light. “What’s going on?”

Riley popped up from the floor, holding one of Madix’s boots in his hand. “Oh, thank God, are you here with me, Mads?”

Madix nodded hesitantly, as if he wasn’t sure himself. He rubbed his eyes. “Did I pass out?”

“No.” Riley yanked the other boot off his foot. “But you were pretty out of it for a while.” He paused in the process of undressing Madix and sat on the bed. He planted the biggest kiss on Madix’s forehead. The heat was ever-present, but at least there was more clarity in his eyes. “You have a wicked fever, love.”

There was no reply. Madix sighed and let his head fall into the crook of Riley’s neck. The scent of snow and deodorant would have filled his nose if he weren’t congested like hell.

With one last kiss, Riley went back to his task. He peeled away Madix’s winter coat and his sweater, to reveal a sweat-soaked shirt underneath. Dark circles rimmed his collar and underarms, and there was a dark patch running down his back. “Oh, babe…” Riley didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t like seeing the evidence of his boyfriend’s misery.

Madix shivered as the layers started coming off. He felt sticky and cold now that the sweat was drying. The worst feeling of all was knowing that he scared Riley to death. He could see it in his boyfriend’s eyes, how terrified he had been.

“Okay,” Riley said once Madix was sitting there in just his underwear. “Now to deal with that fever.”

While running the bath, Riley took the rest of his own gear off, then he led a shivering Madix into the washroom and helped into the bath.

The water was, as expected, a disappointing lukewarm temperature. Madix got in without complain, mostly because he was too tired to put up a fight, but also because Riley was still anxiously staring at him as if waiting for him to slip back into delirium.

Madix couldn’t help but close his eyes as Riley gently washed his body. While keeping his eyes shut, he said, “I’m sorry.”

There was a beat in which Riley didn’t reply, prompting Madix to look at him. He cracked open his still burning eyes, and saw that Riley was crying softly. It hurt worse than any ache he felt, and it burned worse than any fever he had ever experienced. With soapy wet hands, he gently grabbed Riley’s wrist that was unconsciously washing his body.

The silence remained for a moment longer until Riley let out a shaky breath. With his head down and tears dripping into the bathwater, he spoke faintly, “I was so worried.”

The sound of water dripping into the tub was all that could be heard while both boys just sat there. Riley sniffled, wiping the tears from his cheek. Then Madix sniffled. An intense desire came over him to hug Riley as close as he could for as long as he could. Though he still felt disgusting and worn out, he needed a way to tell his boyfriend that he was okay. That he did exactly the right thing. That he never wanted Riley to worry ever again.

He couldn’t think of anything else to say or do, so he just leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Riley’s shoulder, as tight as he could in his weakened state.

Riley hugged back, not caring that his clothes were getting wet from the water dripping off Madix’s arms. He never ever wanted to let go.

[rune-writes]

Unbreakable Bond

Fandom: Persona 5

Ann Takamaki Week 2020 » Day 5: Birthday

Word Count: 4704

Rating: G

Summary: Six months after Shiho's accident, Ann still could not forget the sight of her friend’s crippled form on the ground. All she wanted was for Shiho to be healthy again so they could have fun like they used to. On Ann's 17th birthday, Ren prepared a surprise for her.

Note: A belated happy birthday to Ann!!

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

Ann was reading a fashion magazine on her bed when her phone vibrated, beeping once. She reached for it, patting her bed and the sides of her pillow. Where was it? Her phone was nowhere to be found, so she looked up, and saw light shining from the top of the stackable cube shelves next to her bed. She grabbed her phone and checked the notification. One message. From Ren. The smile came unbidden as Ann unlocked her phone and clicked the message.

‘Happy birthday!’ it said, followed by party-face emojis and birthday stickers. The time stamp beside it read 12:02 AM. Her grin only grew as she struggled to keep her composure, rolling over to her back and holding her phone over her head.  

‘Why aren’t you asleep?’ she asked. 

‘Why aren’t you?’ 

Ann snorted a quiet laughter. Would it kill Ren to be honest sometimes and say he wanted to be the first to wish her a happy birthday? Not that she would admit she’d been waiting for his message either. 

‘What are you doing?’ he asked then.

Ann grinned. ‘Texting you.’

‘On your bed?’

‘Yep.’

There was a momentary pause before he said, ‘Do you have plans after school? Wanna go somewhere?’

There it was—the question she’d been waiting for. Ann had kept her afternoon open for this very reason. Her grin threatened to swallow her face whole as she typed, ‘Are you asking me on a date, Ren?’

Another pause. ‘Maybe.’ 

Cheeky. Ann laughed under her breath. ‘Alright.’

***

Ren’s invitation was the only thing occupying her mind the entire morning. She wondered where they would go. Sharing a parfait at a cute cafe would be nice. Or maybe they’d go to the movies? They could eat a fluffy cake at a pastry shop. What if, at the end of their date, Ren surprised her with a present? Not something huge, but something unexpected. And then he’d walk her home, his hand holding hers, and once they reached her porch, his eyes would bore into hers in that way that made her stomach twist and knot before he’d lean into the gentlest kiss he had ever given her. The thought already made her heart race and cheeks burn.

Her phone vibrated again inside her bag while she queued in front of the subway escalator. She had put it on silent after the incessant beeping on the train ride to school. Her friends had flooded their group chat with birthday wishes and promises to hang out. A birthday party at Leblanc after school, Ryuji had said. But Ann already had plans, and when she’d said so, Ryuji and Futaba had bombarded her with questions: what plans? With whom?

Ren was conveniently not on. Ann wondered if he was doing it on purpose. It wouldn’t be a stretch to think he was waiting for her somewhere at the station, smirking to himself as he watched their group chat notifications come in. 

When her phone vibrated again, Ann exhaled a quiet sigh and fished her phone from inside her bag. If Ryuji still spouted nonsense about how no one in their right mind would date a girl like Ann, she would give him a piece of her mind once she cornered him at school. However, it wasn’t Ryuji’s name that greeted her eyes. Ann’s eyes widened when she beheld the name displayed across her phone.

‘Happy birthday, Ann!’ Shiho said in her message. ‘Wish you all the best. Sorry we can’t celebrate together like we used to, but I’m sure Ren-kun has prepared something amazing for you. I’m still doing well on my rehab. The doctor said I’ve improved a lot. Not enough to do any sports yet, but I hope we’ll get to see each other soon.’

Her fingers twitched, and she clutched her phone tight. Shiho always wished her a happy birthday before school. Then Ann would find a cute little present hiding in her shoe locker or desk drawer. Shiho would throw her arms around her from behind with a beam spreading from ear to ear as she asked her where Ann wanted to go or what she wanted to eat. A part of her expected that to happen now, grinning with glee as she read the message, before she remembered that Shiho was no longer at her school.

‘Thanks, Shiho,’ she typed her reply, then her fingers wavered over the keys, her lips quirking up in quiet delight. If Shiho’s health had improved, the time they’d be able to hang out might be closer than she thought. She’d set to type something, anything—that’s amazing news, Shiho—when the image of Shiho’s crippled body on the ground flashed across her mind. 

It’s your fault.

She froze in her tracks, her hands on her phone becoming still.

“Hey.” The sudden hand on her shoulder made her jump. A figure stood beside her—a figure in her school uniform. Sunlight reflected off a pair of glasses as Ren peered into her eyes. But then his smile faltered at her lack of response. “You okay?”

“Huh?”

“You kind of spaced out.”

Ann blinked—once, twice. “Sorry, I was—” The rush of traffic on the other side of the sidewalk startled her. She looked back behind her shoulder and found the subway exit standing some thirty feet away. She glanced at her phone, then quickly typed her reply. She’d already sent it and stashed the phone back inside her bag before Ren could take a peek at it.

“Were you waiting for me?” Ann asked instead, adjusting her bag straps around her shoulder.

Ren’s gaze was searching, but when Ann said nothing, he didn’t press the subject. He nodded down the pavement toward their school. “Let’s go,” he said, his lips breaking into a small smile.

***

“It’s from Shiho,” Ann said later that day. On lunch break, she sat on her desk, leaning against the window while she ate the melonpan she’d bought at the cafeteria. The sweetness exploded in her mouth. Ren’s dark gray eyes flitted upward, meeting hers for only a moment. “The text message I received this morning. She wished me a happy birthday.”

“That’s nice.” Ren responded with a nod, taking a bit bite of his tuna-flavored rice ball.

Ann waited for more, but no other answer came. “That’s it?” she asked.

“What else?”

She didn’t know. Some kind of surprised reaction, maybe? Or asked how Shiho was doing?

“She’s your best friend,” Ren went on. “You try not to show it, but I know how much you miss her.” 

Ann pursed her lips into a thin line. She averted her gaze to her bread now held on her lap.

“How is she, though?” he added.

“Good, it seems, at least from her texts.” Amazing, in fact. Now she just needed to wait until the doctors let Shiho travel. Or, wait, she had a better idea. Ann turned around in her seat and fully faced Ren. “Do you think we should go see her?”

“What?”

“She’s been pestering me to visit, saying there’s a confectionery store with all manner of sweets near her school. She said they’re really good.” 

Ren chuckled. “Do you wanna meet her or do you wanna eat some sweets?” he said. Ann responded with one of her own, leaning back against the window.

“Do you remember when I told you about Shiho?” she asked. 

Her voice was quiet under the cacophony of her classmates’ gossips and talks. She hoped her voice reached no one but Ren. From the corner of her eyes, she could see she had his full attention. 

“We only met in middle school, but it always felt like I knew her my entire life. She was this weird girl, quiet. While everyone avoided me, she just... randomly struck a conversation with me, saying my painting sucked.” The memory prompted a wry grin spreading across her face. “My parents were always away, so my house was always empty. When Shiho learned about this, she started taking me to all sorts of places. Pastry shops. Bakeries. These cute accessory stores or just shopping for clothes. Sometimes, I go with her to visit some sports stores or help her practice before big games. I never missed her games...”

Ann trailed off. It seemed like it was just yesterday when they were perusing the stores in Shibuya’s underground mall. Shiho had never tasted the buffet’s chocolate fountain either. When Ann went to visit her, maybe she could bring Shiho a crepe from that stand in Central Street Shiho loved so much. The small pang in her heart returned, clenching a little tighter. 

After school, Ann refrained herself from pestering Ren to tell her where they were going. It was going to be a surprise, and she was content to let it stay that way. They rode the train to Shibuya and hopped off at the station. She half-expected Ren to lead her out and into Central Street, but they headed for the Keio Inokashira Line, where they boarded another train heading for Inokashira Park.

“We’re going to Inokashira Park?” Ann asked once they boarded the train and found an empty spot between a man in a suit and a woman carrying groceries.

“Yep,” he replied, but didn’t elaborate.

That was unexpected, though Ann wouldn’t say she minded going there. It had been a while, and strolling through the vast park under beautiful autumn leaves might be a great way to spend her birthday. 

The ride took 20 minutes, give or take. They descended from the train, then exited the station to a quiet residential area. The park lay only a short walk away. Over a stone bridge crossing the river, trees with gold and brown leaves lined the path on both sides. Ann breathed in the crisp afternoon air, cool against her lungs. She always loved it here. 

“So,” Ann said, turning around on her side and peering into his eyes. “What’s the plan?”

“Want me to tell you, or would you prefer it be a surprise?” He’d kept walking with hands in his pockets, his lips curving into the beginning of a smile.

Ann grinned. “Surprise me.”

Ren grinned back.

The first agenda of the day was a swan boat—one of the top tourist attractions of the park. Ren had apparently accompanied Yusuke on a ride once, where several people had thought them a couple. He had wanted to ride it with Ann after that. But when the rental place came into view, standing in the distance over the bank of the large pond, Ann ground her feet to a halt. Legend had it that the Goddess Benzaiten would curse any couple who rode the swan boat together. They would break up shortly thereafter. 

“You really want to ride the boat?” Ann asked.

Noticing she had stayed back, Ren paused on his steps, tilting his head in genuine inquiry. “Why?” he asked. Ann refused to say why, partly because it was a ludicrous legend, partly because she feared the legend might come true. Understanding dawned on his face when she said nothing, and Ren pulled his lips into a teasing grin. “What, you’re afraid of some superstition?”

There were valid reasons one should be afraid of it. What if something bad truly happened to them and they broke up? 

“If something bad truly happens and we break up,” Ren went on, “you can just blame the curse and forget all about me.”

Ann scoffed, feeling his reply was ridiculous enough to lighten her mood. “I could never forget you,” she said. Her answer brought a smile to his face, and Ren reached out to take her hand.

“That’s why I’m saying we should get on the boat and prove the legend wrong. Besides, would you really let some curse get between us?”

The answer was obvious as Ann felt her lips pulled into a quiet grin. He tugged her hand, then led her to the boat rental place.

It was her first time riding the boat too. It seemed fun, but she never had the chance to ride it. “Next time” had been her reason. If she thought about it now, there were no particular reasons behind it. Why? She could’ve ridden on it with Shiho if she wanted. Had Ann ingrained the curse so deep in her mind that she became incapacitated because of it? Because even without the bad luck, her life had already been a hell of its own. 

People had shunned her. Some had even bullied her. She’d tried not to let it get to her, but for a twelve- or thirteen-year-old, peer pressure had been enough to corner her and make her think of the worst. Should I dye my hair black and wear contact lenses? If I look like everyone else, people may start to like me. These thoughts had spiraled down in her mind with no signs of stopping. She was always alone; her parents were never home. She had no one to depend on—until Shiho, but even that light only lasted three years before she was taken away from her. 

Paddling the swan boat was harder than it looked. And with a difference in strength, it was hard to coordinate their movements. Ann would think their time in the metaverse had strengthened her muscles, but that did not seem like the case. 

“You don’t look like it, but you’re pretty strong, aren’t you?” Ann said, huffing and puffing her breath. 

Ren wasn’t entirely active in gym class either. He wasn’t the strongest nor the fastest. When the boys played soccer or basketball, he would always sit back. “I hate breaking a sweat,” he’d said once. Yet every time they were in the metaverse, he always looked like he was ready to show off. 

Ren chuckled under his breath. “I’ve been going to the gym. Morgana nagged me to strengthen my muscles.”

Figures. The cat was behind everything. She should follow his example and visit the gym more often. 

Wait—

“Where is Morgana?” Ann hadn’t seen him since morning. 

Ren’s smile was wry. “When I told him I’ll be going on a date with you, he turned around and flicked his tail at me.”

“Poor guy. You should buy him something. What about sushi?”

“I should buy you something.”

Ann clicked her tongue in irritation then stared him down, her eyes hard. “You never gave him those tuna sushi, right?” He never did, from all the way back in August—Ann knew. Ren quickly relented, averting his gaze and finding some interesting spot to observe on the water. “It won’t be the high-end sushi bar like in Ginza, but I’m sure there are some delicious ones around here.”

“Then,” he said, “we’re having sushi for dinner.”

***

Massive trees lined the pond on either side. In the spring, pink and white sakura petals decorated the trees in its transient beauty. Ann often sat on the benches, under the awning of the low-hanging branches and overlooking the pond. She imagined that rowing a boat in the middle of it would feel like traversing through a forest. The thick foliage obscured the view of passers-by and park-goers, making it seem like she was in a dreamscape or fantasy, where there was only herself and nature. 

That was what Ann felt now that she was sitting on a boat in the middle of the pond. But instead of sakura, the trees were now lined with gold and red and yellow with a dash of green here and there. They had stopped paddling, resting their legs. They’d gone quite far, their boat rocking between the gentle waves. Late sunlight dappled across the water surface. When a cool, crisp wind that brushed past her skin like a soft caress against her face, Ann watched the water rippling along with it. By the bank, leaves danced in the wind, swirling and dipping and soaring high until they flew out of sight. 

“Having fun?” Ren asked. Ann nodded, drawing a quiet, contented breath. She felt his smile more than she saw it, before he shifted his gaze away and said, “I heard you’ve been wanting to ride the boat.”

That caught her attention. She turned to him.

“Who did you hear it from?”

“Shiho.” The answer rolled easily off his tongue, as though it was apparent. If Ren were any other person, Ann would have thought he might have heard it in passing or from Shiho herself. But he barely knew Shiho—barely talked to her before the incident in April—so how could he have known? He didn’t give her a chance to ask before he glanced behind his shoulder and said, “The sun almost set.”

The far eastern sky had grown a deep blazing orange while the sun made its slow descent behind them, sending out the last of its rays before dipping under the horizon. Ann swallowed her question as she moved to paddle alongside Ren to turn the boat around. They’d gotten the hang of it, finding the perfect rhythm between his paddling and hers. They reached the rental space by the time the sun completely disappeared. 

Hand in hand, they headed for the gate leading toward Kichijoji. Various kinds of stores stood on both sides. From second-hand boutiques to chic cafes, furniture stores and handmade accessory stores. Ren’s focus had been on his phone for a while, typing one-handed as text message after text message came with each vibration and incoming beep. 

“Who’re you talking with?” Ann asked.

“Hm? Oh, Sojiro.” The slight pause had tugged her curiosity, but when he met her inquiring gaze, Ren only said, “He’s making sure I don’t go home too late.”

That was nice, Ann thought, to have someone to worry about when he would get home. She didn’t have anyone like that.

Ren messed with his phone for a while longer. When Ann peeked, she noticed the map open on his screen. ‘Sushi bar’ was the search item and several red dots had appeared. Ren clicked and unclicked each dot, reading the descriptions and the reviews left on it, until he finally decided on a place and led her to it. 

His phone beeped again. Another incoming message. Ann glanced at him right as Ren sent his reply. 

“Boss again?”

Sojiro didn’t seem like the type to worry so much. Hadn’t he let Ren out on nights? Ren’s ambiguous nod only fed her suspicion that he was hiding something. She opened her mouth then, about to say something, when they rounded a corner and a voice she hadn’t expected to hear reach her ear. 

“Ann.”

Ann froze. 

Soft and meek, it was a voice she hadn’t heard in person for months. The last time Ann heard it was when they brought her to the school rooftop before she moved away. Ann slowly turned around in search of the source, and there, some twenty feet ahead, was a person she hadn’t expected to see. Dressed in a navy-blue jacket and white cropped trousers, her black hair tied in its usual ponytail, Shiho’s features lit up by the smile blossoming across her face. She held her hand high above her head, waving at her excitedly.

“Aren’t you going to say hi?” Ren asked when Ann failed to react.

He was beaming, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Did he know? Did he plan this? Nonsense. Didn’t he know how far Shiho’s home now was? How had she even gotten to this place? On a school day, no less. Then there was her message that morning. Sorry we can’t celebrate together like we used to. Shiho wouldn’t have said that if she’d planned to come. She wasn’t the type to surprise Ann like this. But—

I’m sure Ren-kun has prepared something amazing for you.

Ann slowly shifted her attention to her still-beaming boyfriend, who was nodding his head toward Shiho as if trying to say, go on. Go to her. 

“Did you plan this?” Her voice was only above a whisper. 

He replied with a shrug and a knowing smile. Maybe he thought this was what she wanted, and maybe it was—she’d said so herself; she wanted to meet Shiho. But as Ann loosened her hold on Ren’s hand and all she wanted was to cross the distance and hug Shiho with all her might—because Shiho was here! She’d travelled all the way here!—Ann found herself hitting Ren’s arm instead. Again and again and again—hitting him with a fist as, one by one, tears rolled down her cheeks. 

Why did he bring Shiho here? Didn’t Ren know her friend was still in recovery? Didn’t he know she was still going to rehab every week? Ann knew, because Ann had been in touch with Shiho every other day. They’d texted each other and called each other. Ann knew everything that was going on in Shiho’s life as though she lived it herself. And Ann knew that every day was still a struggle, even though Shiho had said she could almost do everything by herself now. But almost was still not one hundred percent everything. Her physician praised her for improving so much in so little time, but they’d told her to not push her limit. And travelling was clearly pushing the limit. 

What if something bad happened to Shiho on the way? What if Shiho could never return to how she once was?

Arms wrapped around her. Shiho rested her cheek on Ann’s shoulder, warm tears seeping into her school blazer.

“I’m alright, Ann,” Shiho whispered to her ear, over and over like a mantra. “I’m safe.”

***

“I’ll leave you two to catch up,” Ren said before he disappeared from the bar. Ann watched him leave from their seat by the corner. They’d ordered several sushi sets, Ren promising to pay for everything. From his part-time jobs, he’d explained to Shiho. Though there was probably some truth to his words, Ann knew most of it came from their Palace pilfering. 

Silence descended, broken only when Shiho said, “Don’t blame him too much, Ann.”

Ann glanced at her friend before shifting her gaze to her hands. “I’m happy you’re here with me now, Shiho, but…” She shook her head. “Once we return, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind. How could he have thought of bringing you all the way back to Tokyo?” If their sushi had arrived, Ann imagined she would have taken out her irritation on them. It’s not that she disliked Shiho’s presence. Just that…

“I wanted to.” Shiho’s quiet reply drew Ann’s attention to her. “I want to celebrate your birthday with you. And more than anything, I wanted to show you how well I’ve gotten.” Her lips quirked into a small smile, brightening her features. “And it’s not like I went alone. Mom’s here somewhere.”

“Your mom?”

Shiho gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “I got an earful, though.”

“Serves you right! If you wanted us to meet, I could’ve gone to your place instead. In fact, we were just talking about that this afternoon.” 

“But that wouldn’t have been a surprise.”

A muscle twitched along Ann’s jaw as Shiho let out another light laugh. Ann clenched both of her hands on the table, gritting her teeth at her friend’s nonchalant attitude.

“Don’t overestimate your body, Shiho, please. Didn’t the doctor say you shouldn’t push yourself? You’re not your one hundred percent yet. What if something irreversibly bad happens? Yes, it’s great to hear your health has gotten better and I can’t wait to hang out with you again, but—”

Shiho’s crippled form flashed across her mind. Her throat closed up; tears sprang in her eyes as Ann furiously blinked them away. When she spoke next, she couldn’t hide the tremble in her voice: 

“I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” If Shiho’s rush to return to her full potential backfired, Ann didn’t know if she could forgive herself.

The server brought their sushi with three glasses of cold green tea. Ann averted her gaze, brushing at a stray tear as she took out her phone and mumbled something about telling Ren the food had arrived. However, before she could, Shiho’s hand encompassed hers. 

“Do you still blame yourself?” her friend asked.

Ann went still. “I don’t,” she said, even as her heart clenched tight and her breath caught in her throat. 

“It’s not your fault, Ann.”

She knew that. She thought she did. That was why Carmen woke up from inside her. But then there were moments when she lay in the dark, when thoughts she never knew she ever had kept her awake the entire night.

Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. You should’ve noticed the signs. You should’ve known she was suffering. Even if there had been nothing you could’ve done, you should’ve been there for her at the least. You’re her friend! Why had you let her feel so alone, so cornered, that the only consolation she could find was on the other side of the rooftop ledge?

Shiho pulled her into her arms, whispering soothing words to her ear. “It’s alright. It’s okay. I’m fine. It’s not your fault, Ann. It never was.”

The dam broke. Ann clutched onto Shiho’s back as tears she never realized she had held streamed down her face. 

***

Maybe it was an excuse—checking up on Shiho, or going to the sweets store near her school. All Ann ever wanted was to see her friend healthy again so they could have fun like they used to.

When Ren returned to his seat, Ann ended up giving him a piece of her mind. A little more nagging and scolding and refusing to speak with him for the rest of the day. Shiho joked that it must have been Benzaiten’s curse, at which Ren laughed and Ann frowned. 

“We’re not breaking up,” Ann said with certainty. 

Shiho and Ren looked at her in surprise, after which Shiho said to Ren, “You heard her, Ren-kun.” They snickered at Ann’s expanse. 

Shiho’s mother had gone to Kichijoji’s shopping arcade before she went to pick her daughter up at the sushi bar. Ann drew an internal sigh of relief when she saw no signs of vexations on her face as she greeted Ann with a smile. When the girls introduced Ren, however, there was a frozen stillness to her features that even made the unflappable Ren break out in sweats.

They waved her goodbye, but before they turned around the corner to wherever her mother parked her car, Shiho turned around once and shouted, “Come over sometimes, okay?” Shiho beamed, waving her hand high, then disappeared from view. 

“You heard her,” Ren said. She did.

Ren offered his hand, but Ann only spared it a glance before turning her back on him and heading down the opposite direction from Shiho. Ren fell into step beside her. 

“I’ll walk you home,” he said.

“No need.”

“Even so.”

Night had fallen. Lights flickered along the storefronts and windows. Conversations floated around as they walked in silence between passers-by in the shopping district. 

As they turned the corner and headed back toward the park, Ann murmured, “Thanks.” 

She’d acted strong—acted like she had accepted everything. That was never the case. A part of her—an insecure part of her—always came in the middle of the night to whisper despicable things about herself. Fake. Impostor. She only joined the Phantom Thieves because she felt guilty about Shiho. She’d sought to change the hearts of vile adults so no one would have to suffer like her again. It was true, but that was only half of the truth. In all honesty, Ann wanted to seek forgiveness. A redemption. If she accomplished many good deeds, maybe the Gods would hear her prayer and give Shiho her health back. 

As the park came into view, Ann felt Ren’s gaze on her. She still refused to meet it, but let her face break into a tiny crack of a smile. The twinge of pain in her heart gradually subsided, leaving her feeling liberated, as though a heavy weight had been lifted off her mind.

~ END ~